


Fractured pane

by Ireg



Category: Doki Doki Literature Club! (Visual Novel)
Genre: Blood and Violence, Everyone has stands for some reason idk, F/F, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jojo - Freeform, Lovecraftian, Mystery, Or will have? Idk, Original Character(s), Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-19 05:43:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13698045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ireg/pseuds/Ireg
Summary: After miraculously surviving from a fatal injury from an arrowhead, Monika attempts to unravel a conspiracy embedded into Yuri's family, as she sees a side of the world she never knew existed.A counterpoint to Passerby- While passerby is very realistic, this exists as a way for me to get out my urge to do a more fantasy-based setting, as well as getting my love for lovecraft in there. More Monika/Sayori than Natsuki/Yuri, although there will be both. If you want more Natsuki/Yuri, go ahead and read Passerby.





	1. Arrowhead

**Author's Note:**

> As per usual, comments/kudos are always appreciated, but in particular I really like comments.
> 
> There are quite a few things I should mention before getting into this. Monika in this is generally pretty different than most people portray her, even myself (In verdant reflection) And you'll probably see why soon, but it doesn't make her any less enjoyable or anything.
> 
> If you don't know what stands are, don't worry. You'll see them eventually, but i'll explain them as they get introduced.
> 
> Most chapters wont be this bloody or uh, slow? This one was mostly like this because I wanted a lot of Monika explanation and also wanted to make getting pierced by the arrow really important, so IDK.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As per usual, comments/kudos are always appreciated, but in particular I really like comments.
> 
> There are quite a few things I should mention before getting into this. Monika in this is generally pretty different than most people portray her, even myself (In verdant reflection) And you'll probably see why soon, but it doesn't make her any less enjoyable or anything.
> 
> If you don't know what stands are, don't worry. You'll see them eventually, but i'll explain them as they get introduced.
> 
> Most chapters wont be this bloody or uh, slow? This one was mostly like this because I wanted a lot of Monika explanation and also wanted to make getting pierced by the arrow really important, so IDK.

Monika never thought she’d feel so helpless in her entire life.

There was something truly terrifying about this moment. Sure, she was at risk of dying. But more so, the comforting feeling of control - of authority, that was so integral to her sanity had vanished into the flickering void of shadows. Monika never let anyone order her around, and now she felt completely at the mercy of some other being.

It had begun on her drive back from school wherein she… Sensed a presence. It was extremely difficult to explain, but it was almost like an ominous, charcoal fog had clouded and stuck to her. The seemingly normality of scenery around her only heightened the feeling; the odd silence hanged like delicate strings in the air, the cast shadows from the dot of watching heat far above seemed to shift and warp into horrendous amalgamations. 

She cast the malignant omens off quickly: fear, along with many other emotions, did not come easily to Monika. She far overestimated both her athletic skills and her intelligence, and this outburst of uncanny unease like a leak from some unplumbed reality only resulted in her chiding herself. What could she possibly fear?

Of course, there is always an element of existence that should be feared. A narrow crack in reality, a subtle indention into the fabric of matter- It’s coursing, eldritch truth is one that seeks all life. To believe oneself to be invincible is the highest fallacy- death can be postponed, but it can never, never be escaped. Intelligence and life is an aberrant force against the universe’s eventual proposition of total equality, and as such will be leveled. The universe will have a point where all energy is dispersed, where all intelligence is equal, where all is same.

When Monika returned home, all seemed well. That perverse precognition that haunted her melted away like blended chocolate, replaced with a hearty warmth that came as a result of the hearty warmth that the cream-colored pastel walls of this place emanated. The gleaming spears of sunlight drove through every opening, and bathed every space in toasted hues.

She bustled through her average routines, idly replying to a text from Sayori or one of the constant barrage of social media notifications she honestly had no real interest in, besides offhanded fixation to distract her from the ever pungent feelings of predominant isolation from every other person.

They were not feelings of actual sadness, of deep-seated sorrows that cascading upon a person as a monsoon would: the kind of monstrous weight that both Atlas and Sayori held. Instead, they were feelings of a certain otherworldly aspect to her. She could mimic any act with profound ability, but genuine emotions were- Difficult, for Monika. She sought after them with a pious geas of true motivation, a yearning that could never be satiated. Her first delvings into the swelling feelings that came with true emotions were those of success- She could always feel that pang of satisfaction from getting her way. She lusted for that feeling, and crafted every thought to boast her own array of trophies.

But such a feeling never lasts.

So the trek became sisyphean, and slowly rotted whatever good aspects she could find within herself. She stopped at no bound, took no prisoners, and burned every bridge to dust if it meant she could feel again. She compounded, accelerated, soon, it would become exponential-

And then she felt remorse. And guilt. And disgust.

There had been brief flashes of these more somber affects, but they had been smothered by that overwhelming desire, her addiction, her passion for that confirmation, that satisfaction. But when she truly felt guilt- She questioned everything. Her inner dialogue was ripe with those so contemptible comparisons. Was she evil? Was she…. A psychopath? She would never have exposed herself to any psychologist, for fear of being branded: her persona of an affectionate girl with a posse of followers was the only mask hiding that crimson edge she had come to loathe.

The cover of sorrow was reassuring, in time. True psychopaths never feel, and exist only for the sole purpose of extending one’s own success. Psychopaths are machines, clicking things that utilize intellect not for introspection nor creation, but to fulfill the ingrained goal of survival. Less than animals, in some sense.

But Monika could feel- She could feel. And she would feel, and she would find someone who could make her feel.

And she did.

There was no augury Monika could ever have foraged for that would have divined Sayori would be the individual to blossom those shriveled flowers. Monika left her flamboyant seat at the head of the debate club not for any particular desires to promote something of her own design, but to focus her efforts of dominion on a smaller batch of individuals: for control gave that feeling, and control weakened when dispersed.

In time, the reasoning became far less of a glacial, unfeeling nature: those plaintive scriptures the members drew out elicited some fragment of feeling and she eventually seemed to grow fond of the others.

Fond, indeed; you would find that she spent an inordinate amount of time with Sayori, whose flimsy personality humored Monika. And, soon enough- She felt another feeling. Different, from all the rest. What was that? What was that feeling?

Eventually, the feeling became twofold; this miserable abyss weighted itself into her stomach when she spotted behind Sayori’s guise. How could she be so daft? To extend such a pretense of her own to all passersby, and not care to scry deep enough to uncover something so similar in the one she loved? This guilt, this… Empathy. It was a burden. But a succulent burden, a feeling so unfamiliar.

No other gander could bless Monika with the same feelings Sayori could, that tantalizing affection she so rarely savored from other sources, and all those varieties of emotion, that naught else could irk from her.

Smiling, Monika finally pulled away from her introspection and headed to her desk. It was of the utmost importance that she catch the last fading beams of golden giving in her mind’s eye, to properly pair it with this concentrated bliss she experienced from dwelling on Sayori for so long. She would distill out the ethereal fluff onto a page of immaculate scribbles.

And then a bolt of supreme judgement struck from the heavens.

Would this be the way she would die?

To quantify this torment into language would dispel the true impact of this unholy fury; this wildfire of barbs, this focal of tribulation. She became readily aware of the intricacies of exactly why grievous injuries reduced its victims to blubbering or unconscious shells by pain inflicted alone: she felt almost as if her soul itself had been grasped and dragged from her body, only to have layers excruciatingly peeled away. 

It was abrupt, it was sudden.

What could have caused this?

She was certain this suffering should have reduced her to death, or at minimum, unconsciousness. The fragile embryo of conscience should have long since been shattered into fine shreds of pearl, yet some tormentor pulled and restrained her in the realm of lucidity, the realm of stress.

The doorway to hell seemed to have originated within her throat, and she summoned up a muster of energy (Which was surprisingly abundant) to wearily look at the table mirror, mortified at the thought of what she could find.

Her entire neck was simply slathered in sweet, sickly blood. Its sanguine visage glinted sharply in the evening glow as it plopped onto her half-finished poem in a steady rhythm. The gouged flesh at the center of her windpipe seemed to ooze the prophetic mixture, unnaturally parted forward by some invader; forming a grotesque bulge of wrought skin, with the lustrous sheen of something golden glinting beneath. 

There was no doubt to be had: it was an impossibility that she was still clinging to whatever corrupted soul she had. The ragged breaths told her she was still breathing, but how? The throat had been completely skewered. She almost wished the mysterious forces restraining her to this reality would loosen their grip and finally dull the flare of pain.

Almost.

She was Monika, damn it. And if some eldritch power at hand had graced her with the ability to survive fatal projectiles directly to vital body parts, she was going to live. If she had to pitifully crawl to her phone, she would. Nobody, not even death, would order her around.

A snooty castigation reverberated from behind her, stitched with the same bravado that she buried under sincerity. It was feminine, but that callousness seemed to detract from any sense of flowery poise it could have ever had. It lacked the tender warmth Sayori’s had, the suave elegance of Yuri’s, or even the concealed kindness in Natsuki’s. It carried only malice with it.

“You’re going to need to push the arrow all the way through your throat. If you move around any more, it’ll jostle around and possibly scar you even further.”

“And we wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

Monika opened her mouth to say something, but her ravished throat did not permit a single syllable. Perhaps it was an insult, a scream, or even a plea. It didn’t really matter, and she opted to turn to the voice, shaking as the arrowhead imbedded further and she continued to have the urge to scream.

The figure was perched just beyond the threshold of the room, cognizant of the daisy beams coming from the window that would unravel the shadowy guise hiding her identity- that vestiture of shade coiling around her unnaturally. What seemed to be lengthy black hair almost melded with their concealment, before a toothy grin flashed itself to Monika.

“Go on. I’ll be waiting.”

“The pain will only get worse until you dig that arrow out.”

Trembling, Monika lightly felt at her mortifying wound, coating her fingers in the organic wine. She felt the partially pierced strip, running along both the raw carnage and keen edge of the opulent weapon.

The figure was right. If she was going to die, she would have died already. She needed to get this arrow out.

With bold decisiveness, she reached for the back of her neck and ran her delicate fingers along the artisan weapon. With one last impossible breath, she smothered any thoughts of egress and pushed the arrow deeper into her body with uncharacteristic tenacity for someone in this state.

She wanted to scream.

More than anything else, she wanted to cry out, to express her sacrifice, and that unbearable torment to anyone. She wanted to hear that uneasy sound, to know that she would hear her own voice again.

But she couldn’t.

The inferno was fed as she shoved the point through the last of the tissue, feeling it dig and unmake every part of her it caught onto, finally clearing the area with the arrowhead itself. Looking down, she saw its grinning edge gleaming with tendrils of crimson flowing off its urbane appearance of silver and gold. She grasped the mortal instrument by its body, mist with her own essence. She tagged the remainder out, dropping it onto the already soaked poem with a resounding clatter.

The voice chuckled.

“Good.”

And then, the mortal coils of death clutched at her soul, and the abyss was made manifest as she tumbled over the desk.

Yet death had not claimed her: this assailants goal was not murder.

 

_ Arrowhead _

 

_ You are damaged so you can be repaired _

_ We take so we can give. _

_ We all have our arrowheads. _


	2. Amethyst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Monika wakes up from her ordeal in the previous night, she wracks her brain attempting to continue, before coming across an eerie anomaly....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment if you have anything to say! I luv them.
> 
> I can say that i'm definitely having a lot of fun writing for Monika. I think her role as a kind of twisted antihero will be really fun for this story!
> 
> Also, first stand gets introduced, although we don't really see it? You'll see.
> 
> Also, [Relevant](https://www.reddit.com/r/DDLC/comments/7y04ve/manga_literature/)

The bliss of ignorance was quickly dispelled as Monika’s memories of the previous day came rushing back. She came to, feeling the presence of a soaked piece of paper adhered to her face, with a rather disgusting amount of tepid fluid around it.

The epicenter of pain had vanished, although her senses still retained a dull quality to them. Any movement she made seemed to tap into an increasingly dwindling pool of energy, and every moment was a haze of jumbled thoughts: differing widely from her usual lucid conjecture. 

Groaning, she pulled herself off the sticky congealed mass of blood, working to manually peel off the wads of hair stuck to her face.

The desk was an utter disaster. It looked as if varnished in a shoddy candy apple coat, with its glistening surface reflecting the incandescent street light outside. All of the usual objects were somewhat submerged (And probably stuck to the desk from the sticky substance) her table clock, pens and pencils, and especially- her poem, which was completely unrecognizable, completely gorged with the divine wine. As if to alleviate matters, the glossy pane of garnet substance was dripping down to her beautiful, beautiful wood floors in copious, viscous rivers. Woe was her.

She chuckled a bit at that thought; her she was gazing over a red sea, and the most concerning thought was her wood floors. Truly, she had the greatest interests in mind. It’s not as if father would mind any harm coming to them: Monika was practically her own person by this point, with all the time he spent away.

She plucked her desk clock off the carpet of berried jam, uprooting it with a hideous squelching noise from its layer of support. Wiping off its mask of red, she revealed the time: 5:30 AM. She had slept all the way till morning, which wasn’t particularly surprising. Her sleep should have been infinite, not a few mere hours.

She moved to concise deliberation about the events that unfolded. That misanthropic shade, that unmistakable ink blot on reality. What could possibly be their purpose? The logical conclusion would be murder, but the weapon was… Eccentric, to say the least. Their inflection betrayed not a tinge of surprise, which either correlated to a particularly strong will or that their strategy somehow subsisted on Monika surviving her ghastly danse macabre with the clockmaster. What would they gain from mortally wounding her, then… What? Their caustic monologue about removing the arrow even highlighted not wanting to scar her.

As grizzly contemplation remembered the absolutely foul sensation of digging an instrument of malice straight through her own flesh, she instinctively brought her erratic fingers to her throat once again. She sought around the impact point, drifting through the light mantle of scarlet, eventually finding… Naught. Where the ragged gap once stood was dainty skin indistinguishable from anywhere else on her luscious form, at least while this covering of liquid still confounded tactile perception.

She brought her two fingers to a viewing height, then pressed and retracted them apart, watching as the gooey mass split into gossamer threads, forged from some heinous arachnid’s wake. Some curiously morbid aspect of her questioned its palate, but her shriveled supergo had at least enough say to dissuade the notion.

Sayori- Sayori must be graven from anxiety. Or livid, she supposed. It would not be pragmatic to even attempt to explain the real gravity of this situation, especially since her only real credibility was this gruesome spectacle that Monika would never levy upon her. She would take whatever bitter stings were necessary to burden this upon herself.

If she couldn’t confess to Sayori, she certainly couldn’t confer to authorities. Being shafted through some psychological evaluation would expose her more unsavory traits, and any shriveled scrap of validation had been carelessly grasped away from her by the shade. The arbiter- The arrowhead, was missing, and her wound was mended. The inordinate amount of her own blood was a bizarre sight, and she supposed it might evolve into some form of urban legend or medical marvel, especially if it were enough to kill her from blood loss. “The girl who bled…” But it was merely that: an anomaly. 

No, this had morphed into a matter of vengeance only she could undertake. How would she hunt her quarry when she had no tracks nor subtle lead? As if by calculated design, the exchange was invaluably precise. The shade strayed away from any contact to avoid leaving tracebacks, and their ebony garments included a pair of gloves which would sweep any fingerprints. Having Monika discharge the arrow directly from herself seemed yet another preconceived action; distance, as well as curtailing any meager instance of biological residue. Monika was certain she would return, however. Otherwise, what could possibly be the motivation behind such arbitrary actions?

Monika rose, feeling her soaked clothes nearly adhered to her person. She had time, but her first interest should be cleansing her hands from any loathsome traces, then ensuring Sayori’s qualms. She wouldn’t want this filthy biohazard over such a delicate black mirror, after all.

She moved into her bathroom, wetting her hands and watching as the decadent substance flowed off her fingers, rushing to muddy the crystalline water with streaks of morbid interjections. A churning devil’s cauldron, a ritual, a beginning. She felt…. Reminiscent of some earlier abstraction. Macbeth? Was she that lady… The barbed coils of insanity embedding their vice into her confectious skin

It would take flushing to fully cleanse this deathly fluid from her hands. It had crept into and stained every pore, tarnished any pale canvas. In her questions of humanity she had often imagined a similar scene with great dread, although she never imagined the blood would be hers.

After somewhat ridding herself of the foul possession of limb and thought, she reached for her phone.

( 40 new Messages from Sayori)

(10 New messages from Yuri)

(5 New Messages from Natsuki)

(2 New Messages from Unknown Messenger) 

Groan.

Classic Sayori.Monika was honestly surprised their had only been one ambiguous messenger; if Sayori was overwrought, she would rally every contact she could. It was sweet, but still quite fickle. What if her phone had broken? What if it was misplaced? There was a wide suite of possibilities yet she acted as if she was dying. Which she supposed she was at one point, but still.

Sayori: hey sweetie! Do you want to meet up somewhere later? maybe like, olive garden or something, idunno, bluh. :)

Sayori: do you not want olive garden? i mean, i probably would have chosen somewhere else. we have gone there a lot.

Sayori: but its just really hard to think, you know?

Sayori: especially with my meds making my head all foggy.

Sayori: i keep getting this really spooooky feeling that something bad is about to happen. Is that a side effect? i checked the bottle and i really didn’t see anything but it could have been in all the medical wumbo jumbo i guess

Sayori: its really kind of stupid, how am i supposed to read the side effects when im experiencing the side effects?

Sayori: they should just use like, symbols. whatever the spooky one is could be a ghost.

Sayori: and they’d be so much fun because you’d look on the back and there’d be like, 10 cool symbols.

Sayori: i mean, they’d all be side effects that are kinda horrible but then i’d feel less scared about them.

Sayori: aren’t all those warning labels on products all pictures so those can be multi-language?

Sayori: or like the handicap sign

Sayori: oh jeez i was rambling, did you read all that? :?

Sayori: ...monika?

Sayori: this isn’t funny, honey. freaking me out because i told you i was spooked. >:(

Sayori: oh hey that rhymed

Sayori: natsuki would be proud

Sayori: or maybe not she seems to not like when people compliment her

Sayori: except yuri recently which is weird

Sayori: oh heck i just got off topic again

Sayori: i am so angery at you missy >:(

Sayori: how dare you chastise me like this

Sayori: you see that yuri word awwww yeah 

Sayori: ...did you actually misplace your phone

Sayori: and i thought i was the clumsy one haha :P

Sayori: i’m gonna give you so much heck for this

Sayori: seriously tho its pretty macabre around here without you

Sayori: :o did you see that yuri word

Sayori: that’s 2

Sayori: i’m a genius

Sayori: watch out yuri

Sayori: here i drew something for you :D

Sayori: link

It’s a colored, very articulate drawing of Monika and Sayori. Monika is carrying Sayori in a piggyback ride, and they both have gleeful looks on their faces.

About an hour passes until the next message.

Sayori: okay that’s it i’m calling your home phone. >:(

Sayori: ...you didn’t pick up

Sayori: ...monika?

Sayori: MONIKA?

Sayori: please answer

Sayori: i know im probably being really stupid and clingy here but

Sayori: ...if you dont respond by like, 5 tomorrow im coming over.

Sayori: i cant sleep like this.

Monika hesitantly paused at the text box. What would she say? What would be her excuse….? Was she already on her way?

Monika: I’m so, so sorry Sayori. It’s really not necessary for you to come over here.

Monika: I don’t know how i can make this up to you, but I fell asleep. It was really abrupt, im sorry.

Sayori: you’re okay! :D i’m still coming over.

Sayori: i’m sorry for being so clingy, but…

Sayori: please don’t lie to me.

Sayori: you’re not me. you don’t just fall asleep, away from your phone.

Sayori: you’re too methodical for that. that’s why i was worried. you wouldn’t let something like this happen.

Monika: It was… Family business.

Monika: I couldn’t bring my phone into the courtroom in case I recorded.

Monika: I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to worry you.

Monika: But that seemed to fail in a catastrophic manner.

Monika: I’m so sorry. Just please, you don’t need to come over.

Sayori: what the fuck did they even need you for? Don’t they know you didn’t do anything?

Sayori: i’m coming over.

This was bad. Sayori almost never cussed- She must be choleric. Monika had to make sure she didn’t look into her shoddy testimony- She might forgive Monika for the second lie, but what would she say for the actual excuse? “An arrow killed me but i’m still alive?” And worse yet, what would she do with all this blood?

Her cover story was durable so long as she wouldn’t investigate, at least.

Monika never had a mother.

From her point of view, at least. Her childhood with her mom was average, but there was always a grating silence between the two like two knives against one another. If you had that same soul-searching gaze Monika did, you could tell Monika never really loved her mother, and her mother never really loved Monika. Both of them had that amicable facade. They were alike, two birds in the same flight.

And Monika hated that.

She hated that she had the same vile muck in her veins that she did in hers. She hated that she had passed on this sociopathic twinge, like some demonic gift. She hated that she might turn out like her, and she hated that she even thought that/

A year ago, Monika’s mother, Sherry, was arrested on account of fraud, identity theft, and two counts of first degree murder. Her husband was shocked.

But Monika wasn’t.

News spread like some toxic plague. “Monika’s mother is a murderer…” “They said she didn’t even look shocked when she was arrested…. She had the most deadpan look possible on her face….”

No.

She wouldn’t let HER, of all people, ruin her standing.

There was no mercy, no survivors. Anyone who spread contemptible slander about her was completely ostracized, or their deepest secrets remarkably became public knowledge. Monika made it publicly known she hated her mother, and, in time… She erased anything soiling her image.

Sherry would have her full sentence soon. Proceedings were slow, and new evidence of her lifelong plot of infamy was always being uncovered. Soon, she would pay for everything.

In a way, Monika had to thank her despicable ways for her eventual realization of her more human aspects. If not for her arrest, perhaps she would never have stumbled upon guilt, or happened upon the lighthouse on rocky shores far away.

Monika: I don’t know, I think they just needed me there or something.

Monika: How close are you?

Sayori: 10 minutes, i guess.

….Haste was of the essence. Superficial plans swung back and forth within her mind’s pendulum, systematically eliminated as she spotted the innumerable flaws in them like creeping cockroaches darting from one patch of midnight ink to the next. The worst outcome was having her witness this sight, as it would either cast her in a completely villainous light or send Sayori into a heightened panic… 

At this moment a realization crept over Monika like a cloak of raven black. A soft, fuzzy outline ebbed off every implement of the room. Temporal duplicates a layer slightly off center; so strangely close to their parents. She buried her knuckles into her eyes. Was this a side effect of blood loss? She hesitantly bathed in the room again. The bookshelf seemed to have a fully realized shadow, shifted slightly to the right. Most objects had only a miniscule, foggy line, like the lightest stroke of an eraser had smudged it’s color… But this bookshelf… It was completely disproportionate. The veil seemed to lightly obscure the wall behind it, and locking eyes onto it almost seemed to…. Draw it. The shadowy outline almost seemed to gain consistency, shadows and colors flowing into it, a splash of dim browns. The same bookshelf, only rearranged.

A blood-curdling wave of deja vu suffocated Monika like ten feet of soil. Moving closer, with the feeling of unease exponentially multiplying within her amygdala. Her footsteps seemed to almost whisper with delicate, occult gibberings of ebony. Looking at this facsimile of her reality… Scanning between original and eerie imitator. Everything seemed perfectly innocent. Except…

A small picture frame, embossed with cutesy stickers. Admittedly gaudy fuschia frame, but within it… A picture of her and Sayori: at least on the real bookshelf. The authentic copy, with light flecks of blood from the disastrous scene before. The overbearing giant of a wooden construct, flush with it’s phantom imitator.

On the reprint was a twin frame, homogeneous even in positioning and the fine way the mellow, oily shards of shadow layered over it. But there’s was one major difference: the transparent parrot had Yuri exchanged for Sayori.

She felt some primal part of her brain urging her to stop, but she stepped closer. Within reach. This otherworldly phenomenon had irked the same sense of curiosity that discovered the flame…. And discovered death so many times.

Reaching out, she lightly grasped at the picture frame. Her fingers met only voided air, but a tingling, spiritual sense of touch had triggered somewhere within her. Again, she grasped it, emptying all attention into the minute actions of plucking this object. Some force bowed beneath her, like parting through some viscous liquid- Before she clutched at the photo.

Held in her hands like any other mundane object was the previously illusory item. Her hand shook, as she nearly dropped it from the supreme sense of…. Unease she felt.

Bringing it within scrutinizing distance, she echoed shallow breaths of trepidation as she buried her gaze into it like sharpened daggers. There they were, in that same loving embrace as her and Sayori. Her eyes were somehow drawn to her own eyes. She glared as finely as her mortal vision would allow, but she couldn’t see that same unearthly chill she always saw in her own eyes.

Who was this?

Wearily, she extended out her arm again, placing the photo back on the phantom bookshelf. It was quite astonishing how easy it had seemingly became: almost like learning sleight of hand with cards or a pen.

Turning back to her desk, she wavered, holding her hand just above its surface.

...If she was able to take things out….

She pressed her arm onto the soping tree of blood, wincing as she felt the repulsive feeling creep up her sleeve. She had felt that same phantom feeling, but this time- For an empty desk. She could see it, just beneath the painted surface. A darker brown.

What if… Instead of trying to push…. She just pulled the empty space?

She swept her arm across the desk as if attempting to wipe it, initially unsure of its success. As her arm cleared in area, it shifted to reveal… A perfectly shimmering, masterwork desk face, as if the attack had never occured, save for the odd replacement of her ruined poem, desk clock, and pens.

Monika’s wind caught in her throat as if it had grown spines when she caught sight of the poem.

 

_ Amethyst _

_ She’s my field of orchids _

_ I just want to lay down by her and hear her soft words, like the wind rustling through flowers. _

_ She’s my decadent plum _

_ Thorough, fulfilling, and anything I hear from her I could go on for hours. _

_ She’s my shining amethyst. _

_ She’s darker than all the other gems, but her subtle beauty shines brighter than all the rest.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it! Monika's stand. Or, well, it's ability... Kinda. This is sort of that transition period, kinda like when Jotaro was subconsciously using star platinum. I'm not going to spoil EXACTLY what it does, but you can probably (kinda) guess.
> 
> I had a blast writing Monika's backstory, and that one sided sayori conversation. She's such a dork omg.
> 
> And I SOMEHOW had a way to fit in MonikaXYuri in here despite it not even relating to the story at all. You're welcome, my dude. Happy late birthday I guess.
> 
> Probably writing passerby after this, and then we'll get right into it! I know I said I was going to have an actual stand battle this time, but that was mostly because I was planning to space these chapters out more, but i'd rather have them be shorter and come out sooner, dontcha think?


	3. Each Other's Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monika cleans up the last of the mess- Working with her new ability, until Sayori finally comes over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this ship has definitely grown on me. At first, it was just a counterpoint to Natsuri... But as I developed Monika within passerby and eventually got up the spirit to write this fic, i've really learned to love it. This chapter delves into that a lot, before we actually get into the crazy stand bullshit!
> 
> Next chapter, Monika's stand gets a full reveal. Get hype.

Monika gaped at the poem, the seconds slipping like trickling water out of a leaky faucet. The incessant click an antique clock in the distance only heightened the prevailing sense of sheer discomfort Monika felt at the moment.

The picture had been somewhat easy to bury deep into her mind; after all, there are always those awkward pictures you take with your friends. Nevermind the fact that it was in the same prestigious place as Sayori was- Monika didn’t have the logical strength at the moment to pick apart at the bitter peel of this situation to reveal the ripe fruit beneath. But this poem… This was her. Undoubtedly, the looping, bonny characters were hers- She specifically crafted her handwriting to have equal parts Yuri’s elegant letters and Sayori’s cutesy scribbles. A happy medium.

Monika didn’t believe in god, and she didn’t spend excessive amounts of time contemplating it, either; her focus would never be upon the whys of life, merely that life exists. Why spend time musing over why life is, rather than binding every aspect of life to your will? Unlike Yuri, she hardly even considered nor cared of any theories, scientific or not. But that faint sense of recollection told Monika what was happening.

Could that alternate “Her” really be considered “Her”? She may write the same, she may be a perfect facsimile of every one of Monika’s chiseled features, yet she was not “Monika”. That bitter edge you could sense in her eyes was gone, and this poem was of sappy subject she would never even consider writing of. Even with Sayori, she spared those folly comparisons for more serious, affectionate vernacular.

What even “Was” Monika? Was this other her…. The real her? She certainly didn’t seem to have those more disparaging traits she had come to hold on the highest, razor pillar throughout her life. Was this Monika luckier than her? Did she win against fate, gazing proudly upon her uncorrupted genome? 

Balling her delicate fingers into fists, she cut that coarse thread of thinking. She had a task ahead of her, and she wouldn’t let this coddled imitator distract her from that. She swept across the poem with that same ghostly motion, watching as it entered the blurred mirror image, soaking in the candied blood before settling atop it’s alternate, poetic counterpart.

The desk clock and pens, too, had a semblance slightly shifted with an eerie difference. A different company, a few different colors. Reminders…. Reminders. She bent down to the floor, transferring any reminders from that debacle into her counterpart’s reality. Rising, she proudly bathed in her handiwork, before….

What?

The portions of the floor she had exchanged…. Were a tone off center. Only faintly recognizable, but her hickory floor’s beauty was partially dispelled in small blotches where the color did not form a completely congruous appearance. She sighed in annoyance, giving the irritating spots a deathly stare. Perhaps she would wait for her mimic to inevitably clean the mess, then exploit their hard work by regaining her original slices. Perhaps she could even reformat the entire house to this new color, if this irritating ache in her head still persisted every glance she spent on that anomaly.

She moved to her bookshelf, lightly brushing over the splatters and attempting to very carefully exchange only the stains for the empty space in the adjacent reality. Her technique seemed to be flawed, however, as she watched as a small portion of her bookshelf vanished, leaving a small indention in the shape of a trailing finger. On the opposite side, a small chip of wood seemingly appeared from thin air and proceeded to clatter to the empty space where the bookcase stood in Monika’s world. This seemingly had more nuance than she initially thought- Scowling, she touched up the last remaining parts of the room before finally heading into the bathroom with a fresh set of clothes in her hands.

She undressed, having to forcefully tug any soaked portions off her skin. She was left with an outfit botched by rose invaders, completely ruined, and the glacial chill creeping about the house caressing her bare skin. With a disgusted sigh, she held the bundle of clothes ahead of her, pulling the empty space from that other place and watching as it shifted into a blurry wraith, collapsing to the floor. That Monika would certainly be in a dire situation, but this Monika felt nothing but gelid apathy towards her. This was repanance for her easy life, for her undeserved boons.

Monika entered the shower, feeling the startling, misty heat of the water coat her, cleanse her, and forcefully tug her back into a sane mindset. Sayori would surely come while she was in the shower: she would merely say she wanted to be as refreshed as possible before seeing her.

This… Ability...  Was useful, to undercut it significantly. She had not yet established the lengths of her domain, but it’s mere appearance in those most egregious moments of faint anxiety had brought that overwhelming surge of authority to her that helped her stabilize her resolve. She wandered within that raven realm of thought- Could she take herself? How much could she take? Could she take without touching?

She was sure that, in time, she would know the delectable answers to these stinging questions, but for now…..

“monikaaaaa?” Monika could still easily recognize that sheer, cheery tone even over the sound of the shower. Its pure melodic flow seemed to immediately dispel that eerie vibe that had persisted throughout this entire ordeal, and she smiled.

“Coming, sweetie! I’m in the shower.”

“you twerp! i told you i was coming over. what, did you not want to see me? :P” She replied back, with that perfectly adorable sense of humor she always seemed to have.

“Did you ever consider that I didn’t want you to see me all smelly?” 

There was a pause. She seemed to be weighing her options, trying to find the retort that still continued the japing conversation.

“well, you could have just put on some perfume or something! you know i don’t care.”

“And you’re saying you wouldn’t have bugged me about that, too?”

Another pause. Then that pleasant laugh that was just a few decibels from being a shriek. 

“okay, you got me. just get out here real soon, okay? i’m still worried about you. what if you’re an impooooostor?” The tone was still joking, but that statement clearly intended as a amicable jive cut deep. Monika winced as she remembered her brief existential crisis.

“....are you okay? did i say something? :o” Sayori queried, somewhat confused after Monika’s pause. Sayori was usually the one who was dumbfounded at Monika’s replies, not the other way around.

“No, no. I just was thinking, was all.” Monika worked to lather on that same sense of reassurance and comfort she did all else. She usually didn’t need to around Sayori: she was one of the few people Monika could genuinely speak from the heart for. However, the last sight she wanted was worrying Sayori further by betraying her actual inflection. 

“stop thinking and get out heeereeee! >:(” She cried.

“Alright, alright. Can’t get enough of me?” Monika said, spreading benevolent mockery across her words.

“that’s not what i meant! but i mean, kinda? :?” Her dazed voice simply carried that dorky wonder it always seemed to.

“why else would i be here at five in the morning?”

“Because you’re a dork?”

“hey! no bulli! leaving me like that gives me at least like, 1 week of no bulli time,”  Sayori whined.

“Do I need to haggle with you on that?”

“yes! you aren’t going to scam me out of three days like last time, missy! no amount of kisses can save you this time.”

“You’re seeming pretty confident for someone who can never decide what they want to wear….”

“that’s another bulli! every bulli extends the time by another day, so that’s 8 days now!”

Monika rolled her eyes at the childish comebacks, stepping out of the shower and getting dressed, before finally opening the door to a room…. Devoid of Sayori.

That same sense of distant, eerie tickling against the back of her neck seemed to return, slowly creeping and spreading down her shoulders and up the back of her head. Her eyes darted from place to place, her heart fluttering and slamming against her ribcage, and her breaths became almost pierced, like her throat was. That was, until she heard the faintest giggling, before Sayori sprang from behind the door and tackled Monika straight into the bed. Or at least, tried to.

Monika looked with an unamused expression at Sayori, who was now clinging to her like some sort of cat, easily showing off the height and weight difference. She had stumbled in the takedown attempt, but eventually regained her composure.

“You do realize that wasn’t going to work on me after the first time, right?” Monika said, trying to pry Sayori off, but to no avail. She was lighter than Monika, but still definitely heavy.

“no! my strategy is perfect! screeeeeeeee! “ She let out a warcry like some demented banshee, then threw her weight against Monika once again, dropping them both to the ground in a disheveled heap.

Monika gazed up at Sayori, who was now awkwardly right on top of Monika, and had a flustered expression on her face.

“You know you did this to yourself, right?”

“nuh-uh! you were the one who got me all worried, so i came here, and this happened! all your fault. that’s another day for trying to blame it on me.”

“ _ Sigh. _ ”

“You’re such a dork.”

“no u!”

“And I love it.”

Sayori got up, still with that rosy expression as she creased back her hair into better form, only to have it return- But she seemed to have forgotten about it by that point, much preferring to beam at Monika as she adjusted from her seating position to a standing one.

“so, did you… see her?” Suddenly, the lighthearted tone shifted to a much more somber aspect. Monika laid down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, suddenly having Sayori plop right next to her.

“A little bit. We had a few glances.” Monika put in a false trace of sadness and anger- She may not have actually gone, but those feelings were definitely still there.

“how long until she gets convicted? they have good evidence, right?”

“Yeah, but that’s not really how the court system works. They have to double check everything, and sometimes the defense’s job is basically to stall as long as possible if they know their client did it.”

“that’s…. really dumb. i hate it when evil people get away with stuff like that….”

Monika sat in silence, mulling that sentence over. Was she that person? She was just like her mother, after all….

“monika?” 

“Hmmm?”

“i know what you’re thinking.” She had this steadfast seriousness that her voice almost never contained, and this ultimate sense of care that always dug into Monika’s cold, cold heart.

“you’re not evil. you’re not her.” Even if the statement was simple, it carried immense emotional weight. 

“....I don’t know, Sayori.”

“I don’t know.” Monika let her actual feelings bleed out from their shallow shell, for once. She didn’t exactly know why- maybe she just didn’t have the energy anymore, or maybe it was like all those other times where she let Sayori see just how conflicted she was inside.

“don’t be stupid. you cant feel emotions as well as other people, so what? that’s like saying natsuki is evil because she beats up other kids in fistfights sometimes. you cant judge someone off just one thing.”

“why would you help me with my depression if you were evil?” She posed. It was…. A legitimate question, at least. But still, it was always the same…

“Because i’m selfish. Because I want every moment with you to be the best, brightest one. Because I hate to see you like that.” Monika poured out. That emotional toll of nearly dying and seeing a better version of yourself had finally caught up to her.

“that’s not selfish, that’s love. and it proves that you can feel, right?”

“did your mom love your dad?”

The air itself almost seemed heavier from the gravity of that question. It had been a question Monika had asked herself many, many times before. Every time she caught her mom with that look of pure apathy towards Monika. She guessed that she  _ seemed _ to appear loving to him, but Monika knew better. When his back was turned, all she saw was disgust.

“I don’t think so. I don’t think she ever loved anyone.”

“see? there’s your proof you want so much.” She said with that soothing warmth, that spread through Monika and dampened the chill to the air.

“sometimes, you just cant rely on proof. you have to go with your heart.”

“Sayori, you know better than anyone that your heart can lie.” Monika said, still unsure of exactly her place in this world.

“Your heart tells you you’re worthless. Everything in the world, and especially- My heart, says you’re not.” A lot of things she said might seem stale and phony to anyone who could read, but this… This wasn’t.

“and your heart tells you you’re evil. i guess we both lie.”

“but you know? i guess that's why we have each other’s hearts.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think a good thing to coming up with relationships is finding things in common between the two characters. Because, thats really all relationships are: Two people bonding over things they have in common. Even if love is very much undercut by that simple statement, I think at the same time its important for people to compliment each other. When you're trying to make two people love each other in fiction, they have to counter each other's flaws in a way that makes them feel like they actually need each other: If you're ever shipping two people, make an effort to come up with a reason besides "They're cute." It doesn't have to be particularly thorough, but I guarantee it will make you appreciate the ship and even the characters a lot more.


	4. Moonlight Sonata/Your Reality (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After heading off to school, Monika cheats on a test with her new ability and is confronted by Yuri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First stand reveal! I'm really digging the appearances of these first two stands, I think they fit the character and the ability really well!
> 
> Tell me what you think Yuri's stand ability is (If you haven't seen that one cheat sheet that was on passerby a while ago that I deleted :/)

The rest of Monika’s morning went about as expected. Sayori and her cuddled for a fair bit, before Sayori finally begged Monika to help her with her chess play, which she would learn to “Avenge” Monika from the last time Yuri beat her. She didn’t have the guts to tell Sayori that if Yuri beat Monika, Sayori surely couldn’t, either- So she just played along with it. Monika won almost every practice game, but Sayori surprised her by beating her in one.

Eventually, time slipped away like a soap bar in the shower, and Monika headed into her bedroom, right around the time she usually got up, with Sayori in tow. She needed to grab her bag before they headed out….

Monika paused, looking as if some invisible force had stopped her right in her tracks. She was staring directly at her bed, which was a bit ruffled from the two cuddling earlier.

“monika? what are you looking at?” Sayori looked seriously dumbfounded.

“Nothing, nothing.” Monika pried her eyes away from the bed, but you could tell something had bothered her.

She had seen the other her.

She was surprised she hadn’t caught a glimpse of her, earlier, honestly… But she supposed she never really looked directly at the place where she usually slept. Of course, logically speaking…. Today, if that incident had not occured, she would be resting peacefully in sleep until just around this time. And so, while looking around, she had spotted that ethereal version of herself- Looking completely disgusted and startled at the pure mess her room had become.

There was not a fragment of empathy from our Monika. The other one was just unlucky- As our Monika was unlucky and gained that pitiful gene. If she was anywhere nearly as crafty as our Monika, she would find some way to get herself out of this situation, assuredly. And even if she didn’t, that certainly wasn’t her, now was it?

It was, however, very eerie. Whilst seeing yourself in the mirror always duplicates your actions, in photos you are are frozen in a still world, and in videos there’s a certain layer of abstraction through the oracle from which you view it, seeing a nearly identical version of yourself was…. Bizarre. Especially since there were minute differences in her mannerisms that definitely tipped Monika off that it definitely wasn’t exactly her, but they were so insignificant they could almost be overlooked….

Monika and Sayori set off, enveloping themselves in the cool february air. On the way, they talked about school and games, nothing real in particular…. Until they reached school, and split up.

Eventually, Monika’s shadow joined her. She still had a fragment of frantic look on her face, as if she still had not recovered from the shock of waking up to a room bathed in your own blood. What a weakling… Could she hide not even that?

Seeing the entire school in double for the first time was certainly…. Something. At first, seeing shallow duplicates of every person, every object was… Nauseating, but she found that she eventually seemed to grow accustomed to it. It became almost a second sense, one that she would only call upon when needed. It was incredibly curious, however… How each object was sometimes moved off its usual place or replaced by a similar one, or how some people took slightly different paths. Her double seemed to be evident to this, as she talked with completely different people on the way between class and during first block, people our Monika would consider… Damaging to her reputation. She seemed much kinder, if anything.

In her four block schedule, second block was math- And Monika cursed that she had a test that she was unable to study for due to that encounter with the graven point of an arrow. She had the majority of the knowledge, but she always liked that little touch up right before the test…

Surely enough, she was stumped on a question about halfway through the test. She sat there, holding her pen in a tight vice to relieve her building anger. She wouldn’t allow this to ruin her nearly perfect grades… She waited so long, her mimic had already finished. Wait, she wondered if….

Carefully, Monika grasped her paper, working with that same intangible feeling and swapped it out for her parrot’s, who had already completed what must be in Monika’s usual superb performance. With a smug grin to herself, Monika looked around to see if there were any witnesses. Even if there were, how would they explain it? She was safe. This ability was a godsend.

...Yuri was staring directly at her. She had this suspicious, condemning glint in her eyes, a kind Monika rarely saw… Was she mad that she “Cheated?” How would she even explain that she had cheated? No, Yuri must be staring behind her, or…..

The block continued as expected. The teacher taught the next lesson, Monika idly chatted with her friends… Glancing every so often back at Yuri, who had seemed to stop staring, although she was…. Writing in a book? That’s… Weird. It was a full hardback and everything. Was she annotating?  

Next was lunch, so Monika headed off to see Sayori. She took a shortcut through the courtyard, breathing in the sharp chill of february and the last remnants of that rainy bliss before….

Yuri was waiting. Her long hair curled around her like some dark tangled web, and the shade from the tree she was leaning on covered all of her facial features. She looked offly ominous…. 

But she quickly moved off the tree, exposing that usual, slightly embarrassed, timid face, but with that hint of determination to it. And that graven sense of curiosity she seemed to have. 

“Yuri…. What are you doing here?” She tried to sound as amiable as possible, but that hint of irritation and suspicion seemed to blend through. What exactly was her point here? 

“Monika, how long have you had a stand?” Her tone was deathly serious, and she seemed almost worried about something.

“What… What are you talking about?” Monika was completely puzzled. Was that some sort of literary term? “Stand?” What was that even supposed to mean?

“It’s okay, you don’t have to hide it from me.”

“I saw it, back in the classroom. When you cheated.” Despite the subject matter, her tone wasn’t very accusatory. Just… Worried.

“Oh…. Haha. That. Yeah, I just moved my paper around a bit, is all.” There was no possible way she knew what could have actually happened. This was ludicrous.

Yuri sighed, parting at her hair as she glanced around the courtyard, looking to see if anyone was watching with those shy owl eyes. “You know, I really don’t like bringing her out in public….” Regardless, she closed her eyes, and… A figure appeared behind her. Coalescing out of seemingly nothing, it held a delicate sense of macabre beauty to it.

It was the figure of a middle-aged woman taller than Yuri, floating lightly behind her. She wore a suit of darkened ebony, and her amethyst hair akin to Yuri’s flowed in bountiful rivers, covering her eyes and almost reaching the ground. Atop her head was a fedora, akin to a noir detective... She was pale, and the slight outline of gears turning just beneath her skin could be seen if you cared to look beneath her skin. On the backs of her hands, and her left cheek, there were patches of blue-white metal, perfectly blending from her skin tone like they were a part of her. They had light crescent shapes indented into them, and she wore a stark expression.

“This is my stand,  _ Moonlight Sonata. _ ” Yuri said. Monika was agape at the sight. What… Was that?

“The mere fact you are seeing her proves you are a stand user. And yet….” She looked confused, troubled. Thinking, musing over Monika’s expression.

“...Monika…”

“What.” Monika said bluntly.

“...Have you… Never seen a stand before?” Yuri seemed… Shocked.

“....No?”

“...So you haven’t even seen your stand in full?” Yuri queried.

“Yuri, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Exasperated, Yuri stared at the ground, while  _ Moonlight Sonata _ continued to float behind her, that eerie mystery to her. She almost looked like an adult version of Yuri. Well, almost. Yuri almost seemed to be trying to escape into the ground, to get away from this awkward situation.

“Well… Erm…” Yuri fumbled, continuing to break eye contact and instead glance around awkwardly.

“I guess i’ll need to explain them to you, then….” Yuri uttered.

“I wish sis were here to thoroughly explore this subject in those concise tones she always does… Errr, we should probably see her later.”

“A stand is… A manifestation of your soul. Or… Your will to fight. It gets thrown around both ways, but…” She continued.

“They’re supposed to be inherited from birth, based on your family lineage. Everyone in my family that I know has one, and i’ve trained with Brigid with mine since I was very little…” Her eyes almost fogged over with gossamer recollection, remembering some past experiences.  

“I’ve never even… Begun to have something like this. The only thing I have is that ability, and that’s only been around today.” It was a white lie, if anything. Monika wasn’t exactly sure what that arrow even was, but she didn’t want Yuri to get the word out to Sayori.

Yuri stopped, locking a decisive gaze right onto Monika’s eyes, suddenly overcoming her shy tendencies. “Monika. Did anything occur to you last night? This is important.” Every word seemed to pronounce the gravity she was trying to convey.

“Well….” Monika was conflicted. She didn’t want to share this with anyone, but Yuri’s tone was so rarely this… Urgent.

“I was shot by an arrow. By some figure who broke into my house. I didn’t catch anything about her, but she took it after I passed out.”

“I should have died.” Yuri’s concerned expression worsened tenfold, as she continued parting her hair, brows furrowed in some contemplative gesture.

“I’ll have to talk to my sister about this. But for the present moment…” Yuri ceased attending to her hair, standing with a more decisive posture.

“It’s important that we draw your stand out. I don’t know who that was, but they are undoubtedly some form of stand user, which concerns me. Up until this moment, I have been convinced this was a unique anomaly to my family.” 

“...And how are you going to do that?” Monika asked. She didn’t quite like the sense of danger Yuri was conveying in her tone….

“Like this.” _ Moonlight Sonata _ seemed to pluck a crescent-shaped throwing knife out of almost nowhere, before throwing it directly at Monika. The wind beautifully parted with a whirring sound as it seemed to be bound straight towards Monika’s heart.

Time almost seemed to stop, as Monika’s breaths quickened. She instinctively attempted to dart to one side, but the thing was moving at an incredible velocity and her reaction time was lacking. Monika closed her eyes, sharply inhaling the february air… Was she going to die?

One second. Two Seconds. Eyes still closed, she heard the distant murmur of conversation from the courtyard, and the elegant whistle of winter’s last breaths.

“You can open your eyes, Monika. It worked.”

Carefully opening one eye- Expecting to see that same waterfall of crimson as she had last night. Instead….

Standing in front of her was a floating figure, similar to Yuri’s own. She appeared almost like a humanized queen from chess- The highest point was a jagged crown, with a large, chiseled crack in it as if it had been struck by some heaven’s bolt. It was split into two halves, white and black- And this pattern continued to her face, which had a stoic expression that still seemed to ooze a certain sense of malice. She had a pompous gown- One that could be found on a queen, decorated with a checkerboard pattern that helped to blend with the dual appearance of her two halves. Her hands seemed almost doll-like, with rounded joints clearly visible, and a grand spade was present in the center of her gown, separated from the checkerboard pattern. She was… Breathtaking, and she held the dagger inches away from her own face by her own two hands.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I should have told you what I was going to do beforehand. I….” Yuri looked embarrassed, and apologizes ran like water. 

“It’s fine.” Monika said, but she was still vexed. How… Dare she? What if her stand hadn’t caught it?

“You’ll… You’ll need to control it. It’s kind of like…”

Monika focused her attention on her stand, having her cast the dagger aside, before moving behind Monika as  _ Moonlight Sonata _ was.

“I got it.” Monika said, with that calm, callous tone. “Like moving a fifth limb.”

“....Yeah.” Yuri broke eye contact again.

“They all have a name, right? Like  _ Moonlight Sonata.” _ Monika asked.

“As far as i’m aware….”

“Then I shall call her  _ Your Reality. _ ”

* * *

 

**Stand Name:** Your Reality

**Stand User:** Monika Apate

**Stats:**

_ Destructive Power: B _

_ Speed: B _

_ Durability: B _

_ Range: C _

_ Precision: C _

_ Development Potential: A _

**Ability:** Your Reality can peer into alternate versions of Monika’s reality, allowing her to exchange points in space between the two. Currently, Monika can only exchange between one reality, and is limited to anything she can touch.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When designing Monika's stand, I really wanted it to have chess/card motifs, considering how good she was at manipulation and strategy, and i've also referred to her as kind of the "Queen" Of chess several times. As such, her stand is based off a chess queen, although it also has a spades symbol (As in, queen of spades) As for it's ability, I wanted an ability that related directly to the lyrics of Your Reality, so she got the ability to transfer objects between realities! I think it suits her, as its one you actually need to think about to use in-combat. Since you cant just pluck anything from any reality you want, if you want a specific thing in combat you'll need to go to a place wherein that object might exist in another reality. There are also a ton of cool uses I probably haven't thought of yet, so if you have any maybe you could share them? :P It also lets her bestow misfortune onto others, which is exactly the kinda dickish thing she would do. And onto herself, no less! Haha.
> 
> I wont go too far in-depth with Moonlight Sonata, Considering it hasn't been fully revealed. It's ability that is, but I definitely like it's visual design.
> 
> If you aren't too worried about jojo spoilers, you can find a full explanation on stands [Here.](http://jojo.wikia.com/wiki/Stand?file=Standstats.png) anything up to "Obtaining a stand" should be spoiler-free.... Kinda. If you ever have any ideas for a stand, I might use it at one points! I have quite a few planned for now, including "Imagine Dragons" and "Can't stop" (And if you notice, all stands are music references) But i'll definitely need more as this goes on!
> 
> Annnnd that's all, folks! Next chapter we get an actual explanation of Moonlight Sonata's ability.


	5. Your Reality/Moonlight Sonata (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri finishes her explanation on stands, and the two plan to meet after school in the parking lot, where something odd happens...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment if you have any questions, or even any suggestions on stands! If it's creative enough, i'll probably use it. Especially if it's musical reference is good, hehe.

There was that certain aura of stillness to the both of them- As if comprehending exactly what just happened. Yuri still seemed deathly embarrassed, and de-summoned _Moonlight Sonata_. Monika did the same, although with some apprehension- it was very comforting to have such an opposing figure beside you, even if you didn’t quite know the rules yet.

“So.” Monika said, curiosity welling up inside her, slightly helping to dull the anger she had at Yuri.

“What’s the rules with these…. Stands?” Monika almost assuredly thought her assailant with the arrowhead was a stand user, and she would at least hospitalize them. That was a guarantee, a bold signature on a yellowed contract. And if she had to do that with _Your Reality?_ So be it.

“Well, erm… It is quite literally a personification of your soul, which means there are quite a few dangers to summoning it. Any damage dealt to it is inflicted directly upon you, and you can be forced to move if your stand is moved.” Yuri seemed to be talking from experience: Just what kind of training did her family do, exactly?

“So someone could just shoot _her_ and i’d have a gunshot wound?” Monika said, wary of the potential consequences of bringing _her_ out in dangerous situations.

“Erm, well…. No. Due to its ethereal nature, you’ll need to land a blow from another stand. However…. My sis, for example, and I- We both have attacks that are rather long range. With my _crescent daggers_  and her with her, well… It’s probably best you just see it when we come to that, you could still be in danger. Stand’s are weird, and now that I know it’s not just my family… You could very well run into a gun stand at some point.”

“Right. Hmmm, but _Your Reality_ caught your knife.” Monika said, somewhat gloating.

“Yes, w-well, the knives aren’t my ability. That’s my attack. And your stand is a close range stand, anyways.”

“What do you mean?” Monika was… Confused. This entire ordeal was… Bizarre, to say the least. Was surviving death from an arrowhead bizarre? Yes. But this was something new…. It did make her feel in control, however, so she could feel that underlying sense of satisfaction at it. That she almost had a control over the world nobody knew of.

“Stands are either long range and low power, or close range and high power. _Moonlight Sonata_ is the former, and _Your Reality_ is the latter. Although her fists don’t look too menacing… They’re kind of, fragile? Try attacking with them.” Yuri seemed…. Somewhat wary of Monika. Almost like she knew she was still a little bit spiteful after that dager incident.

Monika summoned _Your Reality_ behind her, willing a strike forward in the air. A sharp sssshk could be heard, the sound of some unearthly metal escaping from its imprisoning sheath, and the air itself almost seemed to be cut as _Your Reality_ lunged forward slashed perhaps a little too close to Yuri, who stumbled back into the tree instinctively. Monika smirked at the little jump.

_Your Reality_ ’s fingers themselves seemed to have almost morphed into sharpened, elongated claws- still retaining some sense of being digits, but incredibly sharp.

“Hmmm… I’m thinking I like her.” Monika said, having _Your Reality_ flex her keen edged digits before sheathing them.

“W-well, it would be fairly odd for a stand user to not identify with their own stand…. H-has she talked to you?”

“They talk?”

“Erm, well…. No. _Moonlight Sonata_ talks to me sometimes. But I think sis and her _Danse Macabre_ never have so…”

“Right. What’s your ability?”

“...Maybe you should tell me yours first?”

Monika smiled, but rolled her eyes internally. Yuri could be an annoyance, sometimes. It was very difficult for Monika to admit it, but she was more intelligent than Monika: it was just unfortunate that she didn’t have the tenacity nor social standing to utilize it effectively. What a pain.

“Ever since that fateful encounter with the arrowhead, i’ve seen things in…. Doubles. Not really, as in some areas the objects are in different places, or completely changed. It’s almost like… Seeing into a different reality. And then, I can pluck anything I touch from that reality, even empty space or the top of something.”

Yuri looked deep in thought, staring at some distant horizontal point behind Monika, carelessly combing through that one strand of elongated hair. No wonder her stand had such long hair, if she worked at the damn thing so often….

“That’s… Concerning. It reminds me of my sisters ability, but…”

Monika quickly interrupted Yuri mid-sentence.

“What’s her ability?”

“Oh, well… It’d be better if she told you. She’s better at explaining it, and stand abilities are kind of…  Private, I guess.”

“And yet you just had me tell you mine.”

She blushes. “Yes, sorry. Sorry. Here’s mine… Come over here?” She sits down underneath the tree, patting Monika to sit beside her as she draws the hardback she was jotting into earlier into her lap, which confused Monika heavily. Was the book… Her stand ability?

Monika obliged, sitting down next to Yuri- But not before saying:

“I can't stay much longer. Sayori will be worried sick if I ditch her at lunch, after last night’s arrow incident.”

Yuri nodded, flicking through the pages almost instinctively, which seemed to be filled with…. Her writing…. Although it was surprising just how much she had apparently scrawled into it, and with no lines or any way to steady her letters, nonetheless….

“I understand. This won't take a terrible amount of time.”

“So this book… This is your stand ability?”

Yuri shook her head, but then blushed a little. “No. W-well, sort of. You see… This book… Has a written version of my memories.” She landed on a seemingly random page. Sure enough, there was an emblazoned date at the top- About a month ago. Perusing through the paragraphs, she finds its…. Memories from the chess tournament.

Monika couldn’t help but feel it was seemingly…. A fair bit useless. Was Yuri’s stand really this pitiful compared to hers?

“So…. That’s all?” She tried to sound polite, but it was still a little mocking.

“Errrr, no. See, if I flip to the present….” Yuri hastily flipped to the most recent page, where...

* * *

  _"Yuri hastily flipped to the most recent page, where the text from the present moment was already being written. She looked onto Monika as she read, until Monika said “Wait… This book… Records in the future?”_

* * *

 As Monika read, she narrowed her eyes at the line past the present one, before saying:

“Wait… This book… Records in the future?”

Yuri nodded, smiling a little bit beneath her rouge blush. “Yes, although only one line. And usually, when I erase or modify anything, it just modifies my memories. But if I modify the one sentence in the future…”

Yuri produced a mechanical pencil, before surveying the page again.

* * *

  _“Yuri produced a mechanical pencil, before surveying the page again. “What are you_ ~~_trying_~~ _to say?” Said Monika, after Yuri erased and replaced one word.”_

_“Yuri produced a mechanical pencil, before surveying the page again. “What are you attempting to say?” Said Monika, after Yuri erased and replaced one word.”_

* * *

 “What are you attempting to say?” Monika said, before stopping dead in her tracks. A fair bit of shock, and a little bit of awe.

“You can just… Change fate?” Monika said, mouth agape.

“W-well, I wouldn’t call it that. It’s more like… Slightly modifying fate. I can only change one word, it has to work with grammar rules, and I cant suddenly make the universe do something like kill someone instantly…”

“But you can change the future.”

“....Sort of. It’s not that useful…” Yuri remained humble- But even Monika had to admit that they were somewhat on even footing in terms of power.

* * *

  **Stand Name:** Moonlight Sonata

**Stand User:** Yuri Egeria

**Stats:**

_Destructive Potential: C_

_Speed: C_

_Range: B_

_Durability: D_

_Precision: B_

_Development Potential: B_

**Ability:** _Moonlight Sonata_ can record Yuri’s memories in any book or notebook she wishes. The memories are recorded one line into the future, and Yuri can change one word in that line to change fate, although it must obey grammar rules and not incredibly change reality.

* * *

 

“Well,” Monika sounded, standing and inhaling a bitter gust of air through her throat, before starting off towards the couple’s usual hideout “I’ll be off. It’s been…. Interesting.” She let a slight chill of malice coat her words, letting Yuri know not to try something like that dagger throw again.

Yuri stared at the ground, dejected. “A-alright. Erm, meet me in the parking lot after school… Undoubtedly, Brigid will want to meet you.” Yuri seemed off put at the mention of her sister, that same slight fear that you could faintly hear tremble in her voice when she spoke of Monika- And she hated it. To hear the same tone expressed about her sister, however, was surprising.

Monika paused, rotted husks of leaves coiling around her in the wind like some graven garment, as a raven cried. “I will.” Before leaving Yuri to her own devices, feeling a sense of arctic twofold: On her skin, and on her heart.

She walked among the bleached grass, feeling it crunch and splinter against her soles. Hearing the murmur of voices tickle at her lobes as she became the spotlight of the courtyard, and the ashen light around her seemed to coil all focus onto her. She could feel the eyes of every subservient as the rustling ferocity of conversation was tamed. She was the authority, and she was respected.

And she liked it that way.

That fossilized candescence molded by fragile arrows of light piercing through the sky’s shadows seemed to wrap and slightly opress on Sayori, bundled as she was in winter implements whose rainbow arrays were furthermore dulled by the bleak aspect to this seasonal state. She made a measly attempt to place that dulled mask between herself and Monika, but that bittersweet smile told Monika she had already given up tucking away any darker sides from Monika’s attuned eyes that cold pry open nearly anything she wanted them to.

Monika sat herself at the weathered table, working open her lunch as she used the stale silence to dig some leverage under Sayori in the upcoming confessions.

“This season doesn’t exactly help, does it?” She opted for, pleasantly surprised at how easy that compassion seemed to deftly roll of her words, without any falseness to it.

Sayori’s eyes were locked dead center on her sandwich, lying in a sorry state- flopped over, with a single bite out of it. “....yeah.” The arctic vice of her heart wouldn’t afford her many words, but even that solitary one was worth volumes in underlying tells, especially with the background micromovements of slumped shoulders and absentmindedly picking at the carcass of a sandwich.

“That’s not all there is, right? I watched you take your meds this morning.” The winds of the world’s slumber elevated Monika’s hair, trailing it behind her as she placed herself in a decisive, yet empathetic posture; back straight and arms forward, ready to reach for her if need be.

“no i… that feeling from yesterday, it just got worse and worse. i don’t really know if it's part of the usual or something else, but it kind of just… makes it worse, I guess. just makes me feel helpless. which isn’t a new feeling, it’s just kind of in a different way.” The sound was almost like the dull ringing from a hollow object: Long, drawn out, and tired.

“Do you want to spend the night at my place?” The question was almost purely a rhetorical one. 

“....yeah.” You could see her, being held on. Pulled by that splendid, firm golden thread between the two. Impossibly delicate, yet taut and compound in its strength.

That fragile silence held for a while. Merely the company, the distant squak of some oily bird, and the sounds of eating between the two. The silence may have been somber, if not for the seeming tender warmth pervading against the chills of the air.

“Sayori, have you ever thought about alternate realities?” Monika was chipper, diverting the conversation away from that unwholesome end. The subject matter was still dark, however; as much as Monika’s newfound prowess offered her authority, she always had a tingling sense somewhere beyond her that this was wrong. That she was doing something bad, and she would be punished for it. She supposed it was fitting enough that this gaze into herself was so chilling. After all, the only thing that ever faltered her confidence was herself.

Sayori munched on her chips thoughtfully, with that dopey, sort of dumb look in her eye that made her so cute while she was thinking. “...yeah. yuri talks about those sometimes…” Monika concurred: she had offhandedly mentioned it. It’s so bizarre to unravel every aspect she had seen of Yuri previously under the microscope of _Moonlight Sonata_ . How much did Yuri alter with that book? This talk of alternate realities obviously had something to do with Brigid’s ability, but how much else was concealed in this other life? How many times was _Moonlight Sonata_  there, just beyond Monika’s perception?

“they’re pretty cool I guess, but I manage to make them kinda sad like everything else. there’s always going to be a better version of me, right? if they exist, there’s always a version of me who didn’t make some dumb mistakes or act like a mopey bitch all the time.” She mused over this, while holding down her cool ranch bag from the errant wind and fumbling around for the last crumbs.

“...But would that really be you, then?” Monika posed, reaching for Sayori’s free hand, which caused her to blush in that downcast manner, continuing to focus on the chip bag.

“...i don’t really know.” she admitted. “but then, it’s kind of depressing that depression is one of my core aspects, enough to make _me_ _me._ ” She holds onto Monika’s hand, lightly giving each individual valley and imperfection a cursory touch. “and then, the fact i seem to make everything into self-pity means i just have self-pity about that.” She finishes with the bag, letting go and wordlessly watching it drift away in the wind. If the tone were lighter, Monika might have made some offhanded jive about littering, but the somber aspect seemed to permeate throughout her.

“Well, I think you can’t strictly divide people into being better…” Monika was…. Somewhat lying. It was a personal point that she sometimes found herself feeling superior, and she somewhat despised it, but that was not particularly germane here. “You might be kind of dopey, but you’re the best girlfriend out there and the best at helping everyone keep a level head, right? Another version of you might trade out some of that stuff, but they will lose your positives as well.”

Sayori offered a weak smile to that. “i think you’re the real reason i stay, monika. because i get the feeling i actually am doing something… i’m helping you, and i cant really make the excuse that any other person could replace me, because you’re kind of like me. you don’t really have anyone else. you might have all those friends, but i don’t think they’d ever help you. just like they wouldn’t help me- not really. so i know that i at least have that one thing, that one person.”

And Monika smiled. A true, genuine smile.

The day passed somewhat as expected. Of course, that was a fact Monika had come to learn, through irritating trial and error: nothing could ever completely go her way. Third and fourth block were dull listless, affairs. Any conversation between Monika and her friends were trivial exchanges, as she didn’t share a single block with Yuri nor Sayori, who she was the most eager to talk to. Sayori, for obvious motivations, and Yuri, for more information into that tantalizing secrets of the stands: that formidable power which she now wielded. In class, she would often summon _Your Reality,_ sometimes partially into her own body to see her own arm overlayed with hers, with that black or white shining carapace, or those deadly claws. She would push a pen between this world and the next, attempting to change its position at increasingly fast speeds, watching it blur in and out of lucidity as if dunking it into some inky black.

Club wasn’t riddled with the same ennui that plagued her classes, thankfully. Sayori hid herself behind that all too-comfortable iron maiden, only slipping while near Monika. After poem sharing, everyone split their separate ways: Natsuki and Yuri slipped down, onto the wall- Poring over a single book (The two were becoming increasingly… Conjoined, she would put it) Monika noticed _Moonlight Sonata_ reading alongside them- What was Yuri’s purpose? ...She said her stand could talk; was she… Sentient?

Meanwhile, Sayori simply laid in Monika’s lap, and she tousled at her hair while they talked about life and their next date, and Monika read through a psychology study on her phone.

Monika met Yuri at the threshold of the school, before it blended into the twisting and bustling roads, the steepening hillside that led to the parking lot, and then the grander town. She suited the mysterious environment, almost too well. She looked poised to suddenly begin on some murder case in the dredged snowbanks, picking out clues with those sharpened lilacs for eyes. Her scarf blew behind her as if she were commanding it to for dramatic effect (And Monika realized that she very well could have modified it slightly with _Moonlight Sonata_ ). Monika almost felt like somewhat of a sidekick in this venture. The sense of some noir novel only deepened when she summoned _Moonlight Sonata_ behind her, who embodied that sense of cognizant investigation.

“Why the stand?” Monika posed, carefully approaching with perfect posture.

“...I called Sis. She informed me that we should proceed with increasing caution.” Her owl irises peeked and unveiled every crevice of the surrounding scene, the streams of students flowing outward.

Monika kept on a face of respect, but inwardly she was questioning Yuri’s logic. “We shouldn’t have our stands out, then. If a stand user is around, all they’ll need is one clean hit.”

Yuri tensed, before her stand receded back into her flesh. “You’re correct. Time is of the essence, my vehicle is just over the horizon.”

And so the two walked, crunching disparate pearl snow beneath their boots as they forged their own path, wider than the majority of the students.

“Yuri, did your sister tell you any potential reasoning for the arrow attack?”

“No. But I could almost feel her snowy skin become even paler, so it’s best to heed her advice.” Yuri’s words were coated with a certain trust Monika only felt for one person. She was somewhat envious, that Yuri had seemingly found solace in a family figure, whilst Monika was left with a useless welp of a father and a mother whom was far more like herself than she would ever care to admit.

“If she knows something, she should tell us now.” Monika retained her manners, but let that sentiment out. “We deserve to know.”

Yuri stopped, shaking her head. “We don’t. Who knows what either of us would do.”

Monika wanted to reply to that with a handful of scorn more than anything, but held her lips together as they continued, the glazed asphalt of the bustling parking lot coming into view. This was the teachers parking lot; but Monika had pulled some strings, and the literature club just happened to come into acquisition of three extra places. A generous gift to her subjects.

Yuri and Monika were on the very edge of the parking lot, still feet-deep into chilling white. That’s when Yuri pointed out… Another student? A girl, apparently.

“Monika….” Monika could feel fear bleeding from her voice like some blackened ichor.

And then Monika saw it. The entirety of the girl’s body language was incredibly tense, and she had her back, almost purposefully, away from Monika and Yuri, staring at nothing.

“What is a student doing in the teacher’s parking lot?” Yuri whispered, barely above the smallest tones.

“You don’t think-”

The girl swiveled around with incredible ferocity, and there was a look of fervent rage in her eyes. She was a fair distance away, near the second row of cars. Her red hair- Dull red, less bright than Sayori’s, contrasted the stark bleakness of the snow all around. It was pulled into a ponytail, and she wore a blue fleece. Monika knew her- She was one of the girls who tried to talk about her mother, only for Monika to…. “Punish” her. Severely. And she was staring- Directly at Monika.

“Yuri, bring out _Moonlight Sonata_ , and attack her.” Monika’s voice was steadfast, completely serious and stoic in impending danger.”

“-What?” Yuri was somewhat confused, looking between Monika and the girl.

“Monika…. I’ll make you pay, you fucking bitch.” The girl was clenching her fists together, and Monika could see every vein bulging like an intense pressure was coursing through it.

“She has a grudge on me.” Said Monika, driving and grating her teeth together. She thought she had learned her lesson the last time- And now she had the nerve, the AUDACITY, to seek her out like this?

“Wait, w-”

A figure appeared directly behind the girl- A stand.

It looked metallic, that's for sure- It’s gleaming paint job reflected the still snowy lace all around. It was almost like a knight in armor, save for the fact that each piece of it had flames painted along it, like a hot rod- In all different colors, reds, blues, and purples, and the individual plates were tempered more like a car chassis. In the small gaps beneath the armor, you could only see black limbs, almost cord-like with rubber insulation. It’s head seemed to be the front of a car, the part that almost can appear like a face- It was completely composed of flame.

In almost an instant, the stand flicked several projectiles, moving with incredible speed as it shot each one by holding it between its fingers. Monika instinctively summoned _Your Reality_ , and grinned as she realized she had several seconds to spare. With the inhuman reaction time of her stand, she could almost see the projectiles in slow motion: A few nuts and bolts.

_Your Reality_ dodged two, and blocked the third with its hand, knowing that it would easily be countered by  its power, and invulnerability to anything not stand-related. The measly projectile was easily knocked away, but… Immediately continued its course at the same velocity. Monika raised her stand’s hand to block the rebound, but it was too late: It surprised her, speeding just past the guard and whizzing directly into Monika’s shoulder. Seemingly unimpeded, it tore through her entire body- Bones and all, and exited the other side.

The pain was intense, although only somewhat comparable to her encounter with the arrowhead. She cold feel the warm blood trickling and festering within her padded garments, soaking into the elegant cloth. She dropped to the ground in a cry, but managed to drag herself behind the cover of a nearby car. Yuri rolled to  another car across from Monika, wide-eyed with apprehension.

“S-she’s a stand user?” Yuri’s voice was quivering, as the pressure seemed to multiply exponentially within her.

“Yes.” Monika managed to get out, before gasping in another breath as she pressed her hand against her wound.

“What did you do to her to make her so… Angry?” Yuri seemed suspicious, which only made Monika even more infuriated.

“It doesn’t matter.” Monika only barely managed to spout that out without revealing how much anger she had built underneath the shallow surface of her volcano. “Yuri, look over _Moonlight Sonata’s_ memory recordings and try to find out what was going on with that projectile.” Monika’s voice was demanding, almost as fear-inducing to Yuri as this tense situation.

Yuri obeyed, quickly retrieving the book from her bag and hastily flipping through it, while _Moonlight Sonata_ readied a fan of daggers in her hands.

A few more projectiles tore through Monika’s cover… Completely. They seemed to pass directly through the car, with just as much power as if exiting a gun’s barrel. Monika shouldered through the pain- Her pure tenacity and desire to be in control seemed to edge her through it. She summoned _Your Reality,_ darting out of cover to see the Girl, keeping her distance while staring down Monika with a look that could melt the snow all around them. Her name was Audrey Nem.

Three more projectiles- But Monika was smarter this time. _Your Reality_ surged forward, only slightly brushing the tips of projectiles with her fingers- banishing them to that other world, and watching them fade into mere stencils. Audrey sneered, tossing her handful of nails to the side.

“Just remember that YOU CAUSED THIS, MONIKA. YOU RUINED MY LIFE.” Despite almost shaking from anger, she held her ground. Not thinking, Monika leapt forward, unsheathing _Your Reality’s_ claws and diving in for the hit.

Yuri cried from behind her cover. “Monika! I figured out the ability! It’s-” But Monika was already focused on her strike, ready to extract sweet vengeance.

Audrey parried with her stand, having it only push away _Your Reality_. Monika had prepared for this: She simply redirected her attack. Until… A strange sensation came over her. She was being pulled…. Forward?

“-It can make acceleration constant! None of the projectiles lost any energy!” But it was already too late: Monika felt her acceleration from her first lunge carried through, keeping her moving forward and toward the ground. She attempted to counter the energy, but that only opened her up to a brutal series of strikes from Audrey’s stand, who then locked that momentum in and sent her sliding diagonally across the asphalt, throwing her like a ragdoll as she was jostled around and felt carpet burns forming all over body, until she contacted with a car. She could feel the momentum continuing; her body being used as some sort of gruesome battering ram as she felt bruises blossom over every inch of her skin and a few of her bones begin to crack. She gasped, frantically swiping at the car- It blinked out of this reality and into the next, as she continued sliding. Eventually, she immediately stopped, gasping as she rolled over and began hacking up blood.

Audrey sneered. “You’re just a pathetic narcissist, Monika. You can’t do shit without your little army of fucking slaves. This is the power of my stand: _Can’t Stop._ Do you think your one friend here can save you?”

* * *

  **Stand Name:** Can’t Stop

**Stand User:** Audrey Nem

**Stats:**

_Destructive Power: B_

_Speed: C_

_Range: D_

_Durability: A_

_Developmental Potential: D_

  **Ability:** _Can’t Stop_ can designate anything it touches to continue in the current path of motion with the same velocity it currently has, until the stand user either deactivates this ability or they leave the ability range (Around 20M away from Can’t Stop)

* * *

 “MONIKA!” Yuri cried, darting out of cover with _Moonlight Sonata_ , throwing several daggers, which _Can’t Stop_ blocked. “Stay out of this.” Said Audrey. Yuri stood, frozen in fear by the situation, as Monika laid, bloodied and beaten against the concrete. Audrey continued forward, taking her time to rub it in as Monika shook and attempted to begin to stand in small increments.

Then Monika saw it: In the other world, a teacher was pulling out, tires swiveling against the wetted road of slush. In one quick motion, Monika reached out and grasped for the car with _Your Reality_. She had never tried to take anything living before, but she had to try.

The car blinked from the other reality to the next, and Monika watched as the phantom teacher suddenly fell from her seat, crumpling to the ground. In Monika’s reality, the car continued, heading straight for Audrey. She quickly dodged out of the way- But her stand wasn’t as fast, being clipped by the vehicle as blood burst from her leg to match her wounds. She cried out, hurling obscenities as the car rammed straight into another at the end of the lot, causing a horrendous screech. So she couldn’t take living beings- Interesting.

Yuri threw another volley of knives at Audrey, and the already distracted girl only blocked two as another jammed itself into her coat and between her ribs. She turned with that decisive malice towards Yuri,  an aura of red almost flashing around her.

“Don’t you see that she’s USING YOU, Yuri? She’s a heartless fucking bitch!” Yuri seemed to have a moment of contemplation, then shook her head. “There are no vile people, only vile circumstances. That includes you. Stop this.” Yuri may not be the most persuasive, but her courage showed through.

But Audrey had that glint in her eyes; the look of someone wronged by fate, by Monika. She turned and dashed towards Monika, who began to stand. She felt a slight wind at her hands, and locked eyes with Yuri. “Gonna need some more wind.” Was all she said. Yuri translated the sentence for a moment, then nodded, retrieving her book and beginning to scrawl in it.

* * *

  _“Yuri watched as Monika locked eyes with her, determination flaring in both pupils, mirror images. She felt a_ ~~_light_~~ _gust at her feet, calming her shaky apprehension.”_

_“Yuri watched as Monika locked eyes with her, determination flaring in both pupils, mirror images. She felt a violent gust at her feet, calming her shaky apprehension.”_

* * *

 Audrey dashed at Monika, who had just begun standing. She summoned her stand, striking at Monika, who parried and reached in for her own swipe. Audrey grinned, activating her own ability once again. Monika’s strike was carried through as Audrey dodged, but a particularly violent gust of wind seemed to appear out of nowhere, knocking Audrey forward directly into the strike. Before Audrey could even react, she was been forced down with unrelenting force from her own ability, despite her blocks. Monika brushed the air behind her, summoning a sedan from the other world. Audrey might have had time to cancel her own ability, but the car behind her was already crushing her from the force of _Your Reality’s_ weight. She was trapped: if she let down her guard, she would be sliced to bits by her claws. If she didn’t, she would be crushed. She opted for the former, and gasped for air as she hit unconsciousness.

Monika pulled off her the moment she could feel _Can’t Stop’s_ ability loosen, then glared with an anger she rarely let seep through her mask, and reached back for the final swipe…

“Monika.” Yuri said with incredible tenacity, walking over to Monika- Who was battered and bloody, crimson blotches all over her coat. “Stop.”

It was enough for Monika to hesitate.

“She attacked us, Yuri.” Monika said blankly, an inferno swelling up inside of her.

“If y-you attack her anymore, you’re validating her, Monika. You’re proving her point. Any suffering from now on is unnecessary.” She had a certain level of resolve in her voice, but standing up to someone who had just survived _that_ and was still standing must be fairly terrifying.

Monika looked over, moving her stand’s claws and watching them dance with light. “She was talking about my mother, and she had the audacity to attack me for her punishment. I’m… I’m not going to kill her.” Monika said, wavering only slightly.

“You’re lying. Did it ever occur to you that she just brought up your mother offhandedly? That it wasn’t her intention to spite you? You isolated her from all her friends, didn’t you, Monika? You subjected her to the same punishment you feared oh so much.” Yuri gazed on Monika not with anger, but with supreme disappointment.

“...” Monika paused, mimicking her stands movements with her own and comparing them side by side.

“We need to ask her how she knows about stands. If she was attacked by the arrow.”

Monika finally sheathed her claws, de-summoning _Your Reality._ She adopted her outward personality once again, trying to regain her composure. “Alright. Help me, you can take the front. Let’s get her into the car. Should we call 911 for the wounds?”

“Can you make it to the manor?”

“...Yes.”

“Sis can take care of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First stand battle! I think this one is probably kind of janky, but i'll get better as I go on with it: But I love Your Reality and it's ability to use the environment to its advantage. So long as you're cognizant of where you're fighting, you can successfully use different parts of it to your advantage, like luring someone into a sawmill or another place where you can summon plenty of dangerous objects. It's also about quickly using your surroundings to summon what you need.
> 
> As far as Moonlight Sonata goes, it's ability is kind of amazing, but you need to be very good with it, as it becomes useless once you waste that one word. You need to know word choice, grammar, study your environment, and make calculated decisions, and its writing, so I figured it was a perfect stand for Yuri. I wanted her to have something like Heaven's Door, but Heaven's Door is far too aggressive for Yuri: I can't imagine her exploiting it to read people's thoughts or command them to do things. As such, I gave her a more passive stand that works around manipulating the environment (And maybe 1 word a person says) 
> 
> Can't Stop I also love, So Audrey isn't done for yet. It has a TON of uses, try to figure out a few for yourself! Keeping movement going can do a lot more than just firing projectiles and screwing over opponents with their own attacks...


	6. Für Elise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monika and Yuri head back to Yuri's manor, where they meet a few of her family members and interrogate Audrey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if there's any bad writing in this one, I had a bit of writer's block!  
> If you have any questions or have any good ideas for a stand, let me know below
> 
> Also, i'm looking for a beta reader, for this and passerby (And I guess anything else I do...) If you want to apply, just go ahead and say so below!

That certain stillness, that grating pause between Yuri and Monika extended.  A chilly, airy draft, as if the frigid temperatures had transposed past the shield of Yuri’s black Volkswagen, even despite the incessant blowing of artificial warmth directly onto her body, marked by those tokens of combat, of anger and retribution. Blots that condemned her visage, that furthermore showed her crimson storm within. She had trembled, she had hesitated- And she had halted. Was she irate at Yuri’s pleas, her acceptance of such pleas, or merely, her consideration of such an action in the first place? She was clouded in those foggy, ashen thoughts of confusion. At herself, at her real motivations, and at those ever shattering, ever scattering infinitesimal fragments of self and…. Wholeness, she sought after.

She was a prism of many faces, many reflections, after all. The outward, the inward, and the oppressed. She was a turbulent struggle- While most formed a cohesive unity between these errant pieces, hers only drifted further apart. Her outward, careful sympathy and perfect organization only served as a truly ironic counterpoint to her inward malice and intense lust for those strengthening points of authority and dominion over anything her talons could grasp at. And even on a rippling level below that, suffocated behind layer upon layer of pretentious facades, was that pure detest for herself- That pity, that loathing for her everlasting and deceitful lie, her compromising desires, and her inability to ever unravel herself from the barbs of that coiled stem of addiction. And then those levels bickered, crashed against one another, frothing, abyssal torrents of ocean against pointed obsidian at the cragged shores. Her outermost mask could not function with those beneath embedding their intents, wracking every opening to extend their needs. And that void below of hatred could not properly extend its reach while being suffocated on both fronts- And finally, lonesome enough below, was that morbid aspect, that shriveled, forgotten shade of herself that could only show its face in moments such as these.

She looked down with a bleeding sense of regret, a miserable interjection of navy that she had not often experienced, yet on some level longed for. To feel human, to feel complete. Seeing the purposeful, mossy bud of life that was this girl; this girl with a family, with friends- friends that she had taken away. Ripped violently from her, with so much intensity from that bitter bulb of insecurity within her. Those scarlet threads across her nape, that battered expression of calmness as she drifted ever further into some eldritch dreamscape. She had almost taken this fragile petal, almost trudged it underfoot, and yet to punish the very same despicable thing she would do.

It was shocking, resounding- those feelings. It was unsettling, and eerie. She felt a hollow doll had become a grander thing, a fogged glass brimmed with some trembling sorrow. But even now, it felt dull, empty. Some only tantalizing taste of anything further. She clenched her hands with what little resolve remained, feeling trimmed nails against wrought flesh. Even in this tender moment, that voided figure above had still robbed her of anything fuller. She was still incomplete, still a shell without a soul. Still a garment without its wearer, or a sugar without its sweetness.

Taking her look from that girl, she turned to the rolling hills of porcelain frost, and felt only a connection to that unfeeling, melting coating soon to leave this world. 

Yuri wordlessly swivels onto the long path ahead, a perfectly paved thing swept from any trace of snow. Its long expanse stretches further into the horizon; narrow road eventually reaching that place of venerable opulence that sits proudly as a sleek blot of black amidst the ever lulling fields of white all around. It had no grandeur for the sake of it, it’s expansive nature and affluent picture only meant for comfort of living, and no pretentious shows of wealth. Approaching its frontward face, the gleaming, silvery eyes of each window seemed to gleam back with watching intent. The jagged edges and iron accents on each facet gleamed with watery gelation, and although it gave a sense of ancient wonder to it, modern hints intermixed with the decrepit history to create a baffling tone. Pulling to the right of the grand entrance down a yet smaller strait, the trio passed by rising banks of frosty, glimmering depth before finally entering Yuri’s garage and parking into a narrow spotlight of daylight from outside, only faint outlines of the rest of the cavernous place visible.

As Yuri opened the car door and moved around to Monika’s side, the shutter garage door closed behind them and the lights blinked on. As with the rest of the manor, it was expansive- But not overly so, merely enough for the few vehicles stationed there. The counterpoint to Yuri’s fairly humble Volkswagen was a sleek black car that almost reminded Monika of some sort of raven- it seemed to be a high-performance sports car, although its shimmering surface seemed almost meant to blend into any situation it appeared in, rather than stick out as the point of wealth it was in actuality. To Monika’s surprise, two motorbikes were stood, side by side at the furthest end. An almost wine-colored, dark purple hue - And a velveteen, silky black opposing it. A rack for helmets, gloves, and jackets even stood adjacent- and they looked readily used, a few out of organized fashion as if just placed there.

Yuri helped Monika with Audrey’s sleeping self, carrying her between the two of them. Monika took this moment of forced eye contact to finally the break the encroaching glacier that had formed between them since Monika’s…. Near catastrophe. 

“You ride?” Monika posed, gesturing toward the bikes. It was odd- She didn’t exactly place Yuri as the type of girl to enjoy the activity, but she couldn’t say she didn’t find the idea enthralling herself, somewhat.

Yuri blushed, using their task of shuffling toward the door at the end of the garage as an excuse to busy herself and keep her face partially concealed. “...Yes, err… It’s quite… Cathartic, I suppose. Driving doesn’t quite compare.” She paused, composing her thoughts. “Sis and I go for midnight rides sometimes, just… Out to some isolated space in the countryside.”

“Sounds beautiful. Do you mind taking me sometime?”

Yuri thought for a moment, with that bit of lingering fear still in her from seeing Monika earlier, before she said: “I suppose… Though I wouldn’t want Sayori to think…. Er…..” Yuri stopped, allowing Monika to see where that was going without having to say it herself.

“No worries, I think she knows I wouldn’t rather be with anyone else in the world….” Monika chuckled a bit. “Although, apparently not all versions of me….” 

Yuri shot a look of extreme confusion and embarrassment at Monika, and she swore her face would burst from all the blood clouding there. “W-what?”

“Oh you know, when I was first discovering   _ Your Reality’s  _ powers….” She tactically stopped, allowing the maximum amount of jovial embarrassment to sink in. “One of the pictures of me and Sayori, it was replaced with you. And I found a love poem I wrote about you in that other world...” She smirked, watching as Yuri did everything in her power to somehow move to the door faster, even if she was practically dragging Monika along.

“M-Monika, have  _ Your Reality _ open this door.” She hastily said, changing the subject.

“Alright, alright.” Monika agreed, summoning the queenly figure and gently opening the door. It creaked open, revealing…. A lengthy hallway, three doors on each side. A shimmering rug of varying purple shades, and tapestries and art pieces on either side. At the end was a grand spiral staircase, that must lead throughout the entire house. It seemed to be the basement level, and there were likely storage rooms on each side, although she wasn’t sure.

A single figure leaned against the wall to the right of the staircase, and every shadow in the room seemed drawn to her, forming a coil of amethyst flowing all around her, hair somehow even longer than Yuri’s- This was her sister, all right. Monika could feel the breath escape from her throat, as she earned a callous stare directly from her- Those eyes. Those eyes were like stark, glacial amethysts, boring into Monika’s soul. She could feel them, digging, searching, taking. She gazed with an intensity Monika could never hope to achieve, and showed a perfectly calm, concentrated aspect to her. With greater scrutiny, Monika realized that this shroud was perfectly honest; it was not the same mask of confidence Monika sometimes overlayed over her tormented thoughts, but a steadfast, honed edge of keen thought and wisdom. She seemed to have the same pure analytical prowess Yuri possessed, but finely tuned and adjusted to near perfection, and without the faults of spacing out or becoming distracted. Despite this, Monika couldn’t help but… Like Yuri more. Brigid may have an air of authority Monika envied, but she seemed lacking the romanticism Monika admired about Yuri…. Or was she? Despite her appearance, Yuri often talked of Brigid taking walks with her, or even writing poems. She seemed so…. Inscrutable.

She was taller than Yuri, and appeared almost as she would if she was older- Except for her face and body. Her face, which lacked the same softness Yuri’s did, more bony and rigid, hard and calculating. And her body, which was much… Thinner, although still gifted in some aspects. Her wear was in fair taste; what must be a luxurious, designer coat, and pants to match- Although in all black and purples. She wore a crimson scarf, which loosely trailed behind her and served to accentuate her entire outfit.

Brigid allowed a small corner of her mouth to smile when she caught sight of Yuri, but naught more. She looked over Monika’s wounds, and gestured for the two to move over. “I’ll take the unconscious. Yuri, Monika- Head to the common room. Sancus is waiting.” She was certainly brief, and her voice conveyed crystalline authority, betraying no additional emotions or factors to cloud her judgement. Yuri had on a much wider smile at the sight of her sister, and moved with Monika to hand over Audrey to Brigid, who carried her all on her own.

Monika paused, feeling a bit outclassed, and honestly… Weak. She was almost never not in control, and to have such an empress above her…. Regardless, she had to keep up fronts. She couldn’t appear weak, not now.

“You know my name?” She decided on, following up after her, seeing only that sweeping carpet of hair.

“Of course. Did you not think Yuri would at least tell me the name of the girl who inexplicably became a stand user?” Unlike Yuri, she wasn’t excessive with her words: she used them in all the right places. But it still made her feel… Detached. Formal, and much more closed off than Yuri, who by all means was already closed off.

“...” She had a fair point, understandably enough. And not a single ounce of Yuri’s shyness had carried over, although perhaps the tendency to be somewhat of a social hermit had. “Right. I’m... A little injured. Your stand can heal wounds, right?” Monika chided herself as she let a bit of fear slip through in those words. Every step did hurt a fair bit, although she worked through it….

“Not my stand. My spirit doesn’t exactly have the kind of kind generosity that can afford any sort of restoration- That would be our uncle, Sancus.”

“Y-yeah.” Yuri added in.”H-He’s just about the only member of our family we have any real conversation with, save for the odd letter during christmas.” Yuri seemed… Downcast about the matter, which was understandable. Well, if not for Monika’s envy that she had any real family members at all, but that wasn’t here nor there.

As Monika moved up the lavish spiral staircase, the… Atmosphere of the place became readily apparent. It felt missing a crucial aspect- an empty vessel, where voided space whispered about what should have been a lively estate. The distinctive lack of conversation, that deficit of any life, and the underlying feeling that somehow, the soul of this place had been ripped out seemed to breathe from every facet, above all else. Monika could almost see the ghostly ripples of images past, memories, long forgotten. From better times. Monika had always known Yuri’s family was somewhat tragic. After all- she lived with her sister, who was her legal guardian. She never quite knew exactly the circumstances around it, but she knew her mother was an esteemed author who disappeared at one point. She was never the type to but into someone’s personal life like that, as it would ruin her social standing; so the mystery of Yuri and the Egeria family remained as a conundrum.

Trailing through the polished halls that somehow still felt dusty and decrepit despite their shining appearance, the conversation continued, the errant words reflecting off the true void of this place’s once brilliant spirit.

“I take it he’s as elegant as you two?” Monika said, attempting to gain some sort of favor from Brigid. Yuri blushed, but Brigid only gave a small smile that Monika could tell was only there to appease Monika. “He’s certainly eccentric, as runs in the family. I ushered him here not only as a potential safety net in case you two were attacked, but also for his ties to the arrows.” Brigid took this all in stride, as if it all had the same relevancy. Yuri nearly stopped dead in her tracks.

“Sis, he knows about the arrows?” Yuri almost had… Some sort of childish quality to her while around Brigid. That shy face almost melted, and she was left with some sort of curious investigator, the kind of kid who would ask “Why” to just about everything.

Monika could almost feel a sense of mutual understanding between the two. They didn’t seem big on any hugs or even smiles, but as far as she could tell their bond was shared more through experience and atmosphere than words. It almost reminded her of… Sayori and her own relationship, although almost certainly less tender and a fair bit more involved in…. Whatever Yuri did in her free time, besides write poetry and read dark intrigue.

“Indeed. Remember my brief mentionings at the… Organization?” Yuri nodded, understanding. “Right… That was something mother didn’t want to be associated with, right?” Brigid nodded. “I heeded her wishes, although this issue has prevalence over that. I at least prevented them from sending any more operatives than Sancus, whom is a somewhat prevalent member.”

The group entered the common room, an energetic mixing of more historical and modern components. The centerpiece was a crackling fireplace, flashing with that kindling hearth that lent character even to this place dulled by time, the cast shadows dancing and spinning, until stopped by the bleak white shifting through the curtains. Around it was a mixing of more modern sofas, and classic, leather seats. The coffee table was a more modern glass, although along it sat a half-finished chess game on some antique set, several towering stacks of novels, and a few odd trinkets which probably belonged in a museum. An amazon alexa opposed this, but seemed to be playing some piece that must have been from the early 1900’s. 

Embodying this confused setting was an equally odd man- He wore a red suit that almost seemed to slowly drip the wine it could have been created with, and had a tie that seemed to be white, with scrawlings on it as if it were some ancient parchment. He had a small wagon wheel pin tacked to his lapel, and was currently enjoying what seemed to be War and Peace, a hulking behemoth of a book. His periwinkle shaded hair was slightly curled, although kept trim to his head- It was odd, seeing such a light shade of purple on a male; Monika had only really seen purple hair color within Yuri and a few strangers, so seeing such a… Feminine color was odd, although not as odd as the pink Natsuki’s father might possess. He had a smile to him as he turned from his book, but that certain smile of someone who was simply taking in the environment about him, enjoying yet another instance to luxuriously absorb any shred of inspiration he could take. It was heartfelt, but still tinged with selfish motivations: Monika knew something similar, yet dissimilar to it every time she smiled. His face lacked Brigid’s harshness, but still contained a layer below of greed, that she had never seen in neither Yuri nor Brigid. Light stubble was noticeable, although he kept it in well enough control.

“Ah! Yuri.” He smiled, looking over the four as they entered. “And your friend! What would be your name, young lass?” His tone was jovial: he was clearly aiming for that sort of “Hospitable Uncle” Feel. Despite this, Monika couldn’t help but feel as if his eyes were a bit… Too prying. She shouldn’t be one to judge, due to her own tendency to look people over, but even Brigid had only given her a quick stare as if to establish her position of dominance. This man… Sancus, definitely had some sort of eerie undertone to him. And Yuri seemed to agree, due to the look of anxiety and distaste she was hiding by looking over at Monika instead of facing him head on. 

“Monika.” She said, doing her best to keep up appearances, even to this man. She could feel her fractured bones aching, and the constant dull throb of bruises, and she remembered his ability to “Heal” with his stand in the first place. She kept up a small smile, but said: “If you wouldn’t mind, i’d like to save conversation until after the healing?”

He nodded, of course. Setting aside War and Peace, he retrieved another folded piece of paper from his pocket- Sneaking glances at Monika and Audrey every now and again. At first, she thought she pinned him down as some sort of pervert- Until she realized exactly where he was looking.

He wasn’t looking at her breasts, nor even her face. He was looking… At the bloodstained blotches, those dried lakes of ferritin, those ingrained reminders of her almost betrayal of her humanity. She could see that sense of excitement in him, that same sense of excitement she had when she ordered some pathetic welp around or had an amassed group of students respect her authority. He was taking pleasure in… Her wounds. She shuddered a bit- No wonder Yuri was so apprehensive.

“Please, have a seat.” He said, masking his delight in Monika’s pain with delight to see his two nieces. “My stand is painless, but it may be… Slightly uncomfortable.” Of course his stand would be like that... Monika gave a bit of a disgusted jeer, before immediately turning away to hide her expression again. She sat down, worried at what exactly he meant by “Uncomfortable….”

Brigid laid Audrey down on a couch near the edge of the room, and leaned on the doorway to the room as Sancus began to speak.

* * *

_ "Over those many long months, I felt my flesh gradually dull those bruises, blossoming those sickly yellows and grotesque purples into the spring of new, flowery flesh. I felt shattered bones find one another like lost brothers and sisters, I felt blood and air flowing anew within myself, and a certain pulsating life to me that I had not experienced while I wore against my own form so often. By the end of the ordeal, there was not a strip of my form not in optimal condition.” _

* * *

He was right- The feeling of one’s own flesh wriggling and squirming as if cockroaches had festered beneath it and were digging about was incredibly gruesome. It worked its way back to its partner, and the foul feeling of part of your body extending and growing in real time was incredibly unnerving. She could feel each shattered piece of bone moving through her muscle, before forming back together like a demonic puzzle.

Behind Sancus was his stand- Apparently. It seemed to be a small impish creature created out of book pages, filled with heavy ink, and bindings- forming a small devil on his shoulder who giggled, as the words across him squelched and shifted, with a light, warm glow to them. After the treatment, Monika breathed a sigh of relief, before asking the obvious.

“Your stand works by reading literature?” She asked, hiding her extreme distaste against everything that just happened. 

He nods, a somewhat smug expression drawn from his lips. “Yes, this is my stand, Für Elise. When I read any literature aloud, it conveys any feelings within to anyone who can hear. I cannot reuse paragraphs, however- And there is a certain understanding it has that I cannot have paragraphs specifically created for this purpose.”

“Für Elise… Is an odd name.”

“He named it after our mother.” Said Brigid. “He developed the stand while reading to her in her childhood- She had a deathly fever. Most stand users do- It’s a trial of the worthy. The worthy live with a stand, and the unworthy perish.” Despite the graven subject matter, Brigid seems to offer almost no inflection to her voice.

* * *

 

**Stand Name:** Für Elise

**Stand User:** Sancus Egeria

**Stand Stats:**

_ Destructive Power: D _

_ Speed: B _

_ Range: B _

_ Durability: C _

_ Precision: C _

_ Developmental Potential: D _

**Stand Ability:** When the stand user reads a piece of literature, anyone within earshot experiences the feelings described within the piece. Cannot re-use paragraphs, and the stand knows if a piece was created for the purpose of this stand, and will reject it.

* * *

 

Sancus smiled, crumpling the paper back into his jacket pocket. “Yes, yes… Elise is very dear to me. It’s a shame that I haven’t seen her face in so long, but I suppose my two beautiful nieces will have to do.” Yuri smiled meekly, and Brigid remained as unwavering as ever. “Say, Monika? Would you mind showing me where the arrow pierced you?” Monika nodded, legs almost buckling as she made her way over and showed her neck. This uneasy mist of perversion was getting to her, somewhat.

He looked around the scar, the blotchy dot like some stamp for ownership of  _ Your Reality _ . Lightly brushing his fingers around it...  Feeling each individual ridge, as Monika bared her teeth and stared at the winding and warping flames to distract herself.

“This seems to be scarring from a stand arrow, yes. Have you spotted similar markings on the attacker?” He asked, before releasing Monika who darted away somewhat hastily.

Brigid continued staring at Sancus, her expression morphing into more of a glare, before she moved over to Audrey and began checking over her neck and upper body, before seemingly finding something and letting her down again. Yuri looked on hesitantly, clearly bothered by something but holding her tongue. 

“Near her collar bone, but further down than Monika’s injury. It’s likely the bowmaster specifically aims for the throat to prevent targets from screaming.”

Monika rubbed her fingers together, a faint imprint of that horrifying feeling of being unable to even call out as you wracked your own windpipe. Of seeing all that blood over yourself, and every fiber of your body plead for death, but to be spared. “I… Guess that makes sense. Still, I can't see her reasoning for even awakening myself or Audrey in the first place. Audrey seemed entirely motivated by her own goals….”

Sancus seemed to be musing over the chess board while he thought, eventually leaning over and whispering something into Yuri’s ear, who blushed and shifted a pawn up a few spaces, prompting Brigid to move over, tapping her own piece into a different position.

“The few times we’ve had an abuser of a stand arrow in the past, it’s been for a myriad of reasons. However, it was usually more… Calculated, than this- Shall we say. The brutish lads usually talked to their targets afterward, and didn’t… Leave them be. Some sort of contract.” Sancus puts a sophisticated whirl to every word, but adds that extra spicy spark to some words, like “Brutish lads” to make himself especially appealing, even if Brigid and Yuri far surpassed him without trying.

Yuri looked over the board, waxing that strand of hair again as her attention was split between the battle of wills and this crucial conversation. Brigid watched from afar, almost studying her expression the way an architect would study a building schematic to review its faults and strengthen them later. “...If I may, err…. What if the goal is to sow chaos? Placing stands in the hands of ordinary citizens is… Like handing them launch codes. All of his victims thus far have been teenagers, and they have the least capacity for rational use. Audrey attacked Monika, and she would be either hospitalized or deceased if not for her fortune.” Brigid smiled on, a rare sight- a look of sibling admiration, of belief in each other’s abilities.

“Or, they could believe stands are the next step in human creation and that the strong should gain them. It's not an entirely foreign concept, even if a fallible one.” Sancus asserted.

Monika shook her head. “I don’t get much of my attacker, but the one thing I can say is that they aren’t insane or stupid, at least in conventional ways. They seemed very, very intelligent- Every action was covered.” Monika took in a sharp knife of air as she remembered the razor memory. “Besides, we haven’t even heard Audrey’s testimony yet.” Yuri nodded dejectedly, and Sancus took a sip of a mug with an errant smile twisting his face.

“Well, aren’t you the fiesty one! Hmm, well- I suppose you’re right. My dear niece, shall I awaken the slumberer?” Brigid nodded, an unamused expression at the word choice of “Dear niece”. The flows of her hair behind her almost seemed to contort and meld into some… Antediluvian terror that was her stand. 

Monika supposed that from an outward glance, you could have considered her stand human at some point. Well, if it wasn’t a psychic manifestation of energy in the first place, anyways. But by this point, it shared more in common with some foul corpse dragged from the depths of a bayou rather than anything palatable. It seemed to be wearing a funeral gown, a twisted rendition of a wedding of the usual daisy wedding dress meant for the inevitable seperation of life rather than the union of it. Onyx tones sank into and coated every piece of the garment: every dainty string, every lace and the veil which wholly covered the face. Small, meticulous, yet unnerving details were present, like delicate skull pins of artisan craftsmanship or the repetition of a singular eye motif, that seemed to almost blink at her. Despite the gown appearing like something a corpse would wear, the patches of skin unaffected by the… Other anomalies appeared almost normal, with the exception of the same underlying gears and perfectly transitioning metal plates that you could see on  _ Moonlight Sonata, _ although both had desolate, ebony tones to them and the plates contained that eerie eye once again rather than a crescent. Most startling of all, however, were quivering streaks of a mud like substance scattered across the body, that quivered from every movement yet held on tight and seemed almost… Animate. It was a dark iris, almost shadowy, and it appeared in disparate patches over the vestiture. Anywhere where present, you could see a jagged hole corroded into the cloth, and the movement of some gears underneath, seen unobscured in greater depth without the synthetic flesh blocking eyesight, and still moving, completely lathered in the deeper purples. The entire left arm was covered in this substance, making the entire thing’s movements by clockwork entirely visible, and all together contributing to that pervasive sense of dread.   

The sight was grotesque, yet strangely captivating. Yuri seemed to grow anxious around her sister’s stand, which was understandable, especially with the seeming similarities yet obvious differences between  _ Danse Macabre _ and  _ Moonlight Sonata _ .

She let her stand hover iddly near Audrey, posed as some sort of twisted insurance that she wouldn’t attack. She gave a stare at Sancus, which seemed to signal to him to retrieve another crumpled piece from his pocket, before clearing his throat and beginning to read aloud in that same tone as last showing.

* * *

 

_ “I sensed that faint lucidity of reality and wakening tickle at me, from that unconscious state. A narrow road from untold, eldritch depths, back into reality. I felt those essences of comfort. I felt alive.” _

* * *

 

The feeling of experiencing waking while already conscious was incredibly alarming. Monika likened it to almost like restarting a computer. She felt each bodily process briefly disconnect and whirr to a halt, and for a brief moment of sheer panic she felt herself slip into the unfathomable lisps of unconsciousness completely against her own volition. She tried to cry out and fumble against the overbearing weight of soil against her, but found her mouth and limbs not obeying her commands as she felt each individual part of her brain click off. Just before her eyes shuddered close, a firm grasp of authority was returned to her, and she felt a newfound feeling of refreshment as she felt sweat trapped within her coat and her breathing become irregular from the experience.

Audrey roused from sleep, blinking irregularly and murmuring, before the azul haze of that escape from reality was lifted and a look of stricken confusion and fear began to take hold, a clinging ooze of some malevolent deity. She seemed a mere moment from screaming and summoning her stand, before Brigid  spoke in a tone that seemed to reduce everything to a glacial cold, and trails of frost might be seen even in the air itself.

“If you summon your stand, you will die. That is not a threat, but a statement. You are in a room with four other stand users, one of which is poised to eliminate you the moment you attempt anything. I would recommend calming yourself, then assessing the situation you find yourself in and participating in an alternate course of action.”

Audrey glanced around the room with a startled deer-like panic in her eyes, before locking eyes with Monika. That more so placable expression completely faded, some coddled grub forming into a wicked winged instrument, an utter hellfire in her eyes. She mouthed “You.”, seeming not too content to even speak up whilst  _ Danse Macabre  _ hovered just gently above her resting position. Monika gave the most innocent expression she could, despite the inky guilt beginning to coat her heart in violet.

She spoke, with a certain steadiness to it but still a distant sense of hysteria and occasional jitter exposing weakness beneath. “T-this is illegal, you know. Kidnapping…” Yuri snapped back almost instantly, surprisingly bitter about the whole thing. “So is attempted murder.” “And this is coming from someone who is friends with a murderer’s daughter?” Audrey countered, a quizzically irate expression and questioning positioning of her hands. A wave of heat passed over Monika with that comment, washing away some of her remorse.

“Look, i’m SORRY.” Monika offered. “I’ve changed, alright? You were the one that attacked us.” She tried to appear vexed, but offering more credit within her tone. It only felt partially genuine, but it was the best she could do in this shambled state.

“After hearing the same tired apologies all your life, they sort of lose their meaning. Especially from a bitch like you.” She continued to stare directly at Monika, putting special emphasis on “Especially” and “bitch”. Yuri replied again, with a rising, bloody current within every word. “You’re fortunate you weren’t left on the asphalt to slowly perish, after you attacked us.”

“I-I’m trying, alright?” Monika spoke as softly as she could, calm facade shuddering, while trying to dull the sting of Yuri’s comment. “Can’t you understand that some people have issues? You should know, who the fuck tries to KILL SOMEONE over high school friends?” But in the end, that same bitterness managed to peek from below its restraints. “Oh i’m sorry, maybe it's because I get treated like trash from fucking EVERYONE?” 

Monika sat quietly, taking heavy breaths and stopping any further recourse as to avoid upsetting Audrey further. Those sides were arguing again, sympathy and spiteful grout locked head to head.

After a long silence, Brigid spoke, a particular sympathy but also sternness for all participants. “I’m afraid legal recourse won't be an option for you, considering the presence of the arrow, the influence of stands, and your attack- The foundation simply wouldn’t allow it. Simply answer our questions, cease conflict with your stand, and you’re free to leave.”

“And why the hell would I tell someone threatening me with their stand anything?”

“You will.” There was something so penultimately final about those words, a bold decisiveness that brought that same sense of helplessness back into Audrey’s eyes.

Audrey stared at Brigid, swallowing her spit and clenching her fists together. “Audrey…” Monika called, hoping to plead her to answering so Monika could return to a level of emotional stability.

“What… What do you want to know? She finally said, crumbling and burying her face in her hands. Almost immediately, Brigid began questioning. “When were you pierced by the arrow?”

“Arrow? What- Ummm, A week ago. I guess.” She seemed hesitant and unsure, especially when mentioning the arrow.

“Did you catch the face of the attacker?”

“...No. I was walking home from school, and this… Feeling came over me. I felt like I had just seen myself die, like this slow burning that something terrible was about to happen. And then, out of nowhere, I felt a jolt of pain.” She seemed transfixed while describing the feeling, and chills, too covered Monika’s body as she remembered that feeling within herself, and…. Sayori? The wheels of thought began to turn within Monika as she gazed wide eyed, realizing something.

“I woke up, and I had a… Scar. I was in the hospital, apparently my parents found me in a pool of my own blood on the sidewalk. They thought I was going to die. A couple of days later, I started being able to manifest  _ Can’t Stop _ after some friends of mine brought it out and called it a stand.”

“Friends of yours?” Brigid instantly asked.

“Don’t drag them into this. You have the information that you need, right?” Audrey asked, feeling exploited. “No. As long as the attacker is attacking with the arrow, they will eventually pierce someone not worthy, and they will die. The deaths must be avoided, and this isn’t even counting collateral damage from users such as yourself who use their stands to attack others.”

Monika’s heart seemed to stop as she reached the logical endpoint of her train of thought. Sayori. Sayori was feeling that same veil of dread, and so had she and Audrey. Every user pierced by the arrow had. And Monika doubted Sayori had enough willpower to be “Worthy…”

“D-die?” Monika stuttered, looking up at Brigid.

“-Yes. Why….”

Monika turned to Yuri with trembling features and a look of utmost urgency. She could feel some fatal part of her come from seemingly nowhere.

“We need to go to Sayori. Now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like Brigid as a character a lot, and I think she works well as a sort of foil to Yuri. I don't think this chapter does her justice, however, because seeing her from an outward perspective really just doesn't cut it, so if you want more of Brigid reading part 10 of passerby would probably be beneficial. In terms of Danse Macabre, I love the stand and especially its design, putting in ties to Moonlight Sonata as well as fitting Brigid very well. I still haven't revealed its ability, but if you have any guesses go ahead and leave them below.
> 
> I think its interesting just how many feminine stands we've had (3 out of the 5 stands we've seen) Considering that in Jojo there are relatively few. That might just be a case of there being relatively few female stand users (Whilst here pretty much everyone is female so....) But I still think it lets me sort of go into visual designs that haven't been explored much. I'm also surprised that there haven't really been any punchghost close range type stands that use claws like Your reality, besides high priestess who really doesn't count. Even spice girl was more a punching type, so idunno.
> 
> Für Elise is both a really good, and really bad stand- Which I think is good. All stands should be OP if the user is proficient enough with them, after all there's even an entire arc in part 6 all about how a seemingly useless stand (Survivor) Almost kicked the protagonist's ass. The biggest downsides to Für Elise is a couple things. Anything you read affects ANYONE who can hear it (Besides yourself) which means that it hits your allies as well, and anyone who cant hear isn't affected. Of course, you can kind of play the system and have your allies wear earplugs or cover their ears when you use it, but that's part of using the stand effectively. You also need to constantly be looking for literature that conveys what you need, and I think it fits Sancus pretty well. Für Elise is also the only COMPLETELY non-combat stand we've seen such far, as in the stand itself probably shouldn't be used for close ranged or even long ranged combat, moreso the ability. Not saying it cant, just... It's got D's in a lot of stuff.
> 
> And Yuri riding a motorcycle goes in my "Too good not to be true" headcanons alongside her fencing with Brigid.


	7. Black Herring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri and Monika set out on a frantic drive to hopefully save Sayori.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm... I don't really know what to put here, but if you have any questions, about like- Literally anything, even if its off topic, go ahead and ask me.
> 
> I don't have the balls to put up one of those "Come and talk to me" fics, haha.

 

Yuri seemed incredibly confused, her eyes darting around between Monika and the rest of the cast. Inexplicably, Monika grabbed Yuri’s arm and practically dragged her out of the room, Yuri only following along hesitantly. “W-wait, Monika you can’t just..”

“Sayori’s the next target. Don’t ask me how I know, but I get the feeling she isn’t “Worthy” of a stand. HURRY UP!” Monika almost shouted, dashing down the hall, prompting Yuri to jog behind her as Monika flipped out her phone.

* * *

 

Monika: Sayori! Are you okay? Stay away from any windows. Make sure your doors are locked.

Monika: SAYORI?

* * *

 

Grimacing, Monika nearly broke through the garage door, as Yuri fumbled for her keys. “A-alright, just get in the car, what’s he-” She stuttered as she headed for the Volkswagen, before Monika cut her off.

“We’re taking the bike. I know a shortcut.” She said, fumbling for a helmet. “...Wait, a shortcut through a suburban neighborhood…. What are you-” Yuri began, giving Monika a suspicious stare. “No time to explain- And i’ll need  _ Moonlight Sonata’s  _ book. Let’s go.” Yuri continued looking fearful at the seemingly suicidal Monika, but retrieved the book and handed it to Monika. “If it is destroyed… I’ll lose memories from the past year or so.” Monika didn’t respond, only giving her a decisive, reassuring look in the eyes. 

Yuri clumsily grasped at her helmet, throwing it on and starting the bike, a roaring omen for the adrenaline about to come. Monika hopped on behind her, holding her around the waist as the door creaked open, slowly letting in a flood of light before Yuri sped off, silvery hills blurring around them.

“Faster.” Monika said, speaking through  _ Your Reality _ , allowing her to talk over the roaring compound winds from the speed and the open hills. “M-Monika, the roads are still sort of iced…” Yuri said, hands becoming slick with concentrated fear as she took a screeching turn onto the highway, nearly tipping over against the slick asphalt. “Just do it.” 

It was…. Pleasurable, being with Yuri like this. Feeling the racing rhythm of her heartbeat, so diametrically opposed to Monika’s somehow steady, callous tendency. Feeling the rising heat from the bike and her tension, and being so… Close. In this moment, Monika could possibly see why another version of her might have chosen Yuri. But it was just that- Another version. She didn’t offer that same soft security Sayori always did, and could only fulfill her in an instance where she already didn’t have a gaping abyss within her heart. The moment itself, however- was not one that she might easily forget. The warped ends of wind wrapping about them, the inferno of heat, and the rising passion to make sure Sayori was safe.

Monika began giving directions, and Yuri obeyed, somehow maintaining her prowess with the vehicle. After Monika last direction, Yuri hesitated. Pausing a fair bit before the turn to speak up.

“Monika, that’s a dead end…” Monika knew this; the road was a bridge that had collapsed due to improper supports quite a while ago- Perhaps one or two months. It had pincered any transportation around the humble, Oregon town, causing most to have to take errant detours to head to their destinations. Despite this, she almost immediately replied: “Keep going. I have a plan.” 

Yuri wavered, but obeyed regardless, blazing past the “Caution: Road ends” signs and skimming over the light coating of snow on the less kempt road, feeling it spray against them as the pitfall below into the frosted river became visible. Yuri shook from anticipation, from anxiety, as Monika urged her on. “Go.”

Yuri almost closed her eyes, inhaling daggers of chilly vice as she came close to accepting death. She trusted Monika, but… This was insane.

As Yuri crossed the threshold onto the voided air of damnation, Monika spoke sharply. “ _ Your Reality. _ ” In one fluid motion, the queenly figure emerged from her body, ducking beneath the bike and grasping at the air beneath them. Concrete blinked in- From that other place, fading from mere stencils in the background to an element in the foreground. 

In truth, Monika had glimpsed the bridge on her ride to Yuri’s manor: in her reflectionary world, it was whole.

Yuri swallowed her spit as she continued riding across the narrow husk of the bridge, somehow feeling solid footing beneath her. The strip of concrete maintained its position for just a moment, furthermore helped by  _ Your Reality’s _ inhuman strength. Yuri tried not to focus on the sound of the concrete crumbling behind her, crashing against the layer of ice in the water with a resounding splash, as meager frays from the ice water rose and sunk into her pant leg.

Yuri inhaled a jittery sigh of relief as they crossed once again onto actual ground, almost relishing that impossibly hasted heartbeat she felt in her chest, slamming against her ribcage. They continued on, taking steep turns and blazing past wintery landmarks.

“Yuri… Thank you for trusting me.” Yuri nodded, feeling Monika’s hands tighten on her. “I… I’m never going to learn not to doubt myself if I don't stop doubting others.” She replied, finally beginning to calm down, before her fear spiked once again with Monika’s next words. “Good, because I have one more plan.”

Monika motioned for Yuri to turn right, and she followed the command- blazing down a residential street, another dead end- But this one was different. Instead of a collapsed bridge, it was an entire home, a small semicircle present at the end of the lane for turning around. “You see that car over there?” Monika pointed at a sedan, not unlike Yuri’s own. “I’m going to need you to get directly behind it, as if you’re going to ram into it dead on.”

Yuri obliged. By this point- She had almost completely turned off any logical thinking, instead burying herself fully into trust. She focused everything on the movement of driving, as she prepared for a head-on collision. 

“ _ Your Reality. _ ”

Monika’s stand appeared beneath the two riders, launching a calculated superhuman strike directly against it, launching it into the air. Yuri was jolted, as she continued moving forward, directly atop the car as she heard the sounds of splintering spiderwebs of glass fracturing against the wheel. Then,  _ Your Reality _ moved forward a small bit, summoning an identical version of the car from that other place slightly ahead, and launching the front end into the air.

It functioned as a ramp against their already higher position, launching them on a course into the air. Monika reached for  _ Moonlight Sonata’s _ book with calculated precision, flicking it open to the bookmarked page and beginning to write.

* * *

_ The two riders sailed through the air as if in defiance of gravity itself, and landed quite  _ _ harshly  _ _ onto the roof of the furthest home on the street. _

_ The two riders sailed through the air as if in defiance of gravity itself, and landed quite softly onto the roof of the furthest home on the street. _

* * *

 

Quite impossibly, the landing onto the roof was almost laughably light, as if they had only fallen a few meters. Any shingles hardly broke, and Yuri sailed over the slanted ground, falling into the house’s backyard, bashing directly through a fence as she maneuvered through the adjacent backyard and into the next street, beginning to decelerate as she spotted Sayori’s house just ahead.

“Will the foundation be able to quiet down whoever’s backyards we just destroyed?” Monika said, chuckling despite the tense gravity of every particle of air around them. Yuri laughed in return, but it was coarse and forced. “I… Think” 

They stopped outside, and quickly sprinted off as Monika handed off  _ Moonlight Sonata’s  _  book, summoning  _ Your Reality  _ at the door and kicking it in, resulting in a ear-splitting crack.

Yuri gave a questioning look, to which Monika only shrugged. “I’ll replace it with it’s alternate reality equivalent.” They blazed through each candy-coated room, before halting as they heard…. A shower?

“....Sayori?” Monika said hesitantly, pausing outside her bedroom door. “YEAH? :?” She heard almost yelled from over the water.

“You’re…. Okay?” She said, voice faltering, as Yuri gave her a concerned look. “Monika, I think we-”

“YURI IS HERE TOO? AND… WAIT, WHAT WAS THAT CRASHING NOISE? WAS THAT YOU GUYS?” 

Monika then promptly facepalmed, as Yuri offered her a reassuring pat on the back.

“At least you’re getting better with your stand.”

* * *

 

Somewhere, a cloaked malice stalks a girl with pink hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! That was pretty much... All action. Pretty short as these things go, but we are looking at a REAL long chapter next time to make up for it. And Natsuki's stand getting revealed! That'll be fun.
> 
> This just comes to show how GOOD Your Reality really is. And also I mean like, how could I not do a highway star esque scene. I gotta.


	8. 1812 Overture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natsuki is attacked by the shroud, and someone departs to find her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh... This might not be the proper place to say it, but... 200 Kudos and over 3000 hits on passerby **blows party horn** thank you to everyone who reads that (And this)
> 
> Natsuki's stand is this chapter _vibrates intensely_ we don't see it too much in action but I really like it.

Natsuki tousled, rustling the misshapen folds of her messy bed. She had hoped to have a few sparse moments of rest, before her father might come home and upturn it. And it had started well enough, a budding sense of relief that pulled her deeper into sweet nothings, sweet ignorance. That dulled the aches of hunger and the distant throbs of bruises. Well, until that throbbing pulse of misfortune was levied upon her.

It started as a vague tickling at the base of her neck, a shallow provocation of the more animal parts of the human psyche that urged her to flee. She almost wanted to swat at the feeling, to stamp it underneath the tread of her foot; it was doing no good, merely keeping her from any measures of bliss. Of course she knew that misfortune, or more accurately,  _ he _ was coming. She didn’t need some incessesant fairy shrieking into her ear and raising her hairs about some kind of omen.

But it worsened, and soon even her bitter tendencies to ignore such prompts bowed against the impending pressure. She sighed, laying on her back and feeling her lungs deflate as the narrow stream of air made one of her particularly obtrusive bangs lightly hover. Finally bending against the feeling, she rolled out of bed and cracked open the hefty curtains, nearly being blinded by last beams of dusk reflecting directly into her eyes from the pearly mirrors of snow below.

“Ow, fuck….” She muttered, letting the curtain fall back into its place, once again obscuring the palest pinks of her room in that far more tranquil and reassuring oils of blackness. She subconsciously darted around strewn objects, moving to the door, and slipping out into the partially lit hallway. It had long since laid barren, after her father stripped it of any photograph or painting her mother had hung (Which happened to be all of them), leaving it pathetic and hollow. Hmmph. Sounds like someone Natsuki knew.

She idly strolled down the hall, feeling the coarse carpet between her toes as the dread in the back of her mind only burrowed further into every crevice of her being. She bit her lip, pausing at the stairs as she decided to pull her phone out of her pocket and check to see if she had any texts from Yuri or Sayori. Or hell, she’d even take Monika to help quell this fucking feeling.

Her homescreen- A picture from just a couple days ago of her and Yuri at her weird greenhouse place (Going there was a blast, who knew being rich had so many eccentric benefits…) Was only a backing to a gleaming row of texts. Well, it was nice to know someone cared about her, anyways.

* * *

 

Yuri: Monika and I are going to be spending the night at Sayori’s home, there’s… Urgent matters. Come if you’d like, but i’m understanding that your guardian would likely take offense to that.

Natsuki: Yeah, whatever. I wanted to get my fucking snooze on anyways.

Monika: Hey! Errr, Natsuki. Don’t go near any windows, alright? Lock your doors. Call us if you hear any footsteps. And if you can't call us, call Yuri’s sister. You have her number, right?

Natsuki: ….Yeah, I do. Can you tell me why?

Monika: Just do it, okay? I’ll tell you later.

Natsuki: Monika, don’t leave me in the dark about this. What are you three doing at her house?

Monika: Please, Natsuki. I’m trying to help here.

Natsuki’s attention was ripped from her chat, as she spotted the glimmer of a face in the reflection of her cracked screen.

* * *

 

What the….

She whipped around, hearing something whizz past her head, almost splitting the air itself. A terrible hurricane of pain whipped about in her hand, as she felt herself being yanked backward. There was indeed some sort of malignant shroud ahead of her, posed just past the exposing rays of the hallway window. They were carrying an artisan, inscribed bow in their hands, which Natsuki only assumed had caused this pain. Glancing over, her fears were confirmed as she found a beautiful shaft of golds and silvers sticking from her hand like a miserable pillar of despair, a towering obelisk of obsidian. She could feel blood moving down her hand in bountiful rivers, the warm, sticky falls of wine.

And then she screamed.

The figure shook her head, chuckling softly. “I seemed to have missed your throat… How unfortunate. But you don’t have anyone to scream to anyways, do you?” In that moment, the small beads of helplessness clinging to her were washed away by a torrent of anger, as she could feel some insatiable energy, some uncanny and unholy fury wrack against her, pound against the fragile shell of her body, and cry for freedom.

“You… Fucking….” The energy was finally free, as she tapped into some reserve, felt at a fifth limb. No… Fifth and sixth. Two miniature cannons materialized at her feet, polished in a saccharine coat of fuschia, glistening in the final breaths of the sun. The shroud seemed to almost jump back in surprise, before laughing again, although with a betraying tinge of shaky anxiety. “Hah… I’ve never seen someone manifest a stand that fast. Well, I doubt-”

She didn’t have another word to speak before Natsuki focused her new resolve, feeling the arrow in her hand pass through one limb and into another, as it vanished from her wound, and the sound of a burning fuse could be heard, before the resounding BOOM of a cannon firing. An arrow whizzed through the air once again, although at much greater velocities than a bow could ever stand. The figure seemed to be caught, a deer in the headlights, before a humanoid, queenly figure sprang forth from her body and caught it between its hands in mid-air.

She was of a wholly black, ebony quality on her skin- She reminded Natsuki of a chess queen. Her gown was partially white, completely constructed from playing cards, with all of the heart cards arranged in a fashion around the center forming a larger heart. A huge gouge was present directly down her crown, splitting her face almost in half. On each of her arms were lengthy blades that extended out and all the way along, and they seemed to almost gorge themselves on the light around them, sheathing themselves further in darkness.

“Hmmph… What an interesting stand. You would have caught me, too- If you weren’t so obvious about it.” She went to great lengths to flaunt herself, posing and flicking her lengthy, black hair along. “My  _ Black Betty _ is far superior to your… Hmm, it didn’t have a name, did it? Well, thanks for this arrow ba-”

“ _ 1812 Overture.” _ Natsuki only said, focusing on the flows of blood on her hand. Then, another snakelike hiss of a fuse, and crack of a cannon, as a pressurized bullet of blood was launched at the figure, impacting her stand in chest, resulting in both the user and the stand staggering. The figure seemed to pause for a moment, weighing her options, before dashing off as they spoke.

“You’ll be useful.”

And then they were gone.

* * *

 

**Stand Name:** 1812 Overture

**Stand User:** Natsuki Bellona

**Stand Type:** Long Range artificial non-humanoid colony stand

**Stats:**

_ Destructive Power: A _

_ Speed: _ D

_ Durability: _ A

_ Precision:  _ B

_ Range: _ E/A

_ Development Potential: _ C

**Ability:** Allows the stand user to fire anything they come into contact with as a projectile through the two cannons. Fuse time (Fire rate) Is determined by the size of the projectile and the velocity at which the stand user wishes to fire the projectile. Anything fired is treated as stand-based, thus allowing her to damage stands with it.

* * *

 

Natsuki stumbled back toward her phone, clumsily grasping at it with her punctured hand while she felt any of that remaining substance of will dissipate, consumed by the edges of a frothing abyss. She eventually held it rather uncomfortably as she propped herself against the wall, watching as the blood dripped down it.

* * *

 

Natsuki: I think I found what you were talking about.

Natsuki: Dial 911 for me.

Monika: Wait, Natsuki?

Monika: Natsuki?

* * *

 

Monika was pissed.

Not with anyone else, for once, but wholly with herself. She couldn’t believe she acted so rashly- But still, she would rather Natuski die than Sayori. It was a graven truth, but a truth nonetheless. She simply didn’t have the same stake in Monika’s heart.

Sayori, Yuri, and herself had been playing some smattering mix of roguelites, holding a competition where they would swap off at every death, and the farthest traveller would get some kind of prize. Monika wasn’t exactly sure what the prize even was (Sayori had been strangely silent about the matter for her usual upbeat act, and Monika surmised that she was betting on winning so she didn’t have to think of one)

The solemn substance that seemed to swallow Sayori was surely present, for Monika had become increasingly adept at keenly picking out subtle cues of that underlying state from her. Monika almost marveled at the lengths Sayori would actually go to hide it, even from her- even more than even Monika’s own outward facade. She was even somewhat embarrassed to admit to herself that the existence of her condition had remained completely obscured to her until she reached a point in their relationship where it became impossible to bury the ugly snake of truth, and she had confessed.

Sometimes, she’d imagine what it would be like to be in her shoes, to feel that slow, incessant despair prickling at every thought, drowning every instance of happiness in some miserable coating and furthermore polluting every aspect of her life: the most surprising thing to her was that she actually could empathize with that. Perhaps her sociopathic tendencies had the same ennervatic pull on any real enjoyment that her depression did. Perhaps it was that she spent so much time with the goof that she could almost take in her feelings, aspects, and memories into herself. Whatever the reason, she felt real understanding for her condition.

The true horror of that condition was not its severity- It was likely that if the plague was ever-present, it would be obvious enough for her to be forced into treatment. No, the real scare was its staying power and ability to hide, how it could dart between the shadows, laying dormant with only a dull pang of hopelessness until it striked at the perfect moment. 

Sayori was still a normal person, and she could still have good days, or positive moments. Not every thought felt sown with that listlessness, it was merely that quite a many did.

And that’s why some pang of selfishness stabbed through Monika’s heart when she got that text from Natsuki. She didn’t want to leave, to abandon to her to those hounds of her psyche for even moment, especially when she said it was particularly painful today. She wanted to leave Natsuki’s fate up to chance, that she would survive a piercing with the arrow. She was strong, right?

Monika leaned over from her cuddle with Sayori, while she continued to helplessly take damage (There was no way she was going to beat Yuri’s win in less time) and flashed Yuri the screen, bearing a grim visage. Yuri nodded sadly and with small pinpricks of fear in her eyes, before rising from the couch and beginning to speak. 

“Sayori, Monika and I a-” Monika interrupted her softly by speaking through  _ Your Reality _ , so Sayori couldn’t pick up on their conversation. “ _ I’m staying here, Yuri. _ ” Yuri shot her a judgemental and disappointed glare, while Sayori glanced between the two with a look of sheer confusion. From her point of view, Yuri had inexplicably stopped speaking only to level an iron vice at Monika.

_ “Monika, are you being serious? Natsuki could be in serious danger, we might have to fight the stand user an- _ ”

Monika shook her head, an unwavering stillness in her voice. “ _If she sent that text, she's already been pierced, the stand user will be gone. She has enough willpower to survive a piercing._ ” Yuri almost immediately retorted, very passionate about the matter. “ _How… Can you say that? We don’t-”_ _“Think logically, Yuri. She could be using her as bait to get to Sayori._ ” “ _How does that make any sense? We’ve already established she doesn’t have any specific targets in min-_ ”

Monika stopped replying, only leveling a decisive, inexpressive stare at Yuri. Yuri huffed, shaking as she stormed out of the room. Sayori was dumbfounded, agape at the door as her character died on-screen; she saw an entire conversation play out without a single word. “did you guys just…” She trailed off, staring longingly at the door Yuri left through. Monika snuggled back against her, pecking her on the cheek. “Don’t worry about it, sweets. You want another try after that death, don’t you?” She said with a smug satisfaction in her voice. “wait, i…. hey! that doesn’t count!”

Yuri was pissed.

It wasn’t exactly a secret that Yuri was generally a fairly forgiving person. After all, she was willing to forgive Audrey and Natsuki after some of the even more egregious blots on their record. Maybe it was how Brigid had always told her to be accepting of other people- that had to be it.

But she swore she had never been more livid than she was at Monika in this moment. Some bubbling passion, buzzing beneath her skin.-  _ Moonlight Sonata _ was buzzing beneath her skin. She was summoned, almost out of her own will, floating adjacent to Yuri’s motorcycle as she darted between cars in the last errant beams of twilight.

“ _ I know you’re choleric. _ ” She said. “ _ But you need to calm down. You are aware of the dangers of road rage, especially on a bike. _ ” Yuri tightened her grip on the handlebars, squeezing them tightly.

She didn’t exactly know what it meant to essentially have your own soul call you out for being insolent, but it didn’t help her mood in the slightest to have yet another figure that reminded her of the people far superior to her in every aspect- Brigid, and her mother, calling her out on exactly why she was so inferior.

She didn’t respond, but she had no need to. She was essentially raving to herself regardless, and she knew that she- her, was the correct one. She sighed, as some of that volatile anger was carried away by the stinging chill of glacial winds against her, diluted into more mellow self-pity, although not entirely losing its more bitter qualities.

Monika had abandoned Natsuki, and that was unacceptable. What’s more, Yuri had placed her own life in Monika’s trust just hours before, only to be ignored when she asked for an insignificant amount of any trust back. The most provoking aspect would be that extracting genuine apology from her would be exceedingly tenuous; any efforts would simply result in a baseless, half-baked spit in Yuri’s face, a hollow nothing of a sentence. True apologies were a sight to behold from Monika.

She sped into Natsuki’s neighborhood, letting her emotions and acceleration slowly dwindle as she pulled into another friend’s driveway: she couldn’t possibly fathom how Natsuki’s father would react if he came home to a motorcycle in his driveway, especially if he learned it was another girl who had left it. Fortunately  enough, however, his beaten car from what must have been decades ago was absent. How would he react to his daughter out cold on the floor?

Jogging at a brisk pace, Yuri ignored the front door- She wasn’t going to be nearly as explosive as Monika was, especially considering her ability was far less audacious in its presentation. She dashed through the unkempt grass, past the dejected and forgotten lawn tools and around peeling, yellowed facades. She hastily opened the creaky, rusty gate of once ornate iron, eventually into the backyard with a weather-eaten, bleached canopy and long ignored grill and hoses. She finally reached the clouded glass door that obscured everything inside due to its hazy fog from time.

She took a minor moment to moderate her heaving breathing, before retrieving  _ Moonlight Sonata _ ’s book from her bag and thumbing through the pages entirely by memory, until she happened upon the present. She poised with her penchant pens, letting the last residual tones of the day spill onto the bone-like shades of the paper.

* * *

 

_ She tried the handle on the long decrepit door, but it was  _ _ locked  _ _ and held fast. _

_ She tried the handle on the long decrepit door, but it was unlocked and held fast. _

* * *

 

Sighing, Yuri tried the door. Sure enough, it budged, but only slightly, before screeching like a hyena and coming to a complete halt. This was the ultimate weakness of her stand: over explanation. Changing fate could do nothing when everything was described in tedium, but fortunately enough, she could work with this.

She braced against the side of the door, summoning  _ Moonlight Sonata _ and pulling both with her stands above average strength, and her own rugged resolve. As they yanked at once, it was wrought open with a hideous crack. Allowing herself a mellow smile of relief, she set off into the house.

Everything was coated in an especially suffocating umbra, that was sourced from the blanketing curtains that drape over every orifice from which light could possibly enter, almost as if the miserable troll living here detested sunlight. Any background light sources that may blink or glean any features of the place were similarly absent- Small lights from a television, refrigerator, or even oven were all turned off. She flicked on her phone’s flashlight, moving through the surprisingly immaculate room for such a pig (Although the underlying odor of the place dredged a certain disgust out of anyone)

Heading up the winding stairs, Yuri turned off her flashlight as she came into seemingly the only section of the house not completely bathed in coaxing darkness. The very last pulses of twilight illuminated a frail figure with a fuschia topping and palest complexion, leaned against a wall and looking so pitifully fragile in this state, a pure antithesis of any usual boisterous faces. Her hand was swallowed by that scarlet despair, and in her hand was that dejected and broken phone she must have had for centuries.

In that moment, something in Yuri’s heart broke. Something center, and vital; something that had held fast for so long. It cracked into a miserable state of duality, and she felt the beginning of a haze within her throat, a building congestion that had begun in the center of her soul. She felt budding drops on her cheeks, of that same tranquil contemplation as the rain which she found herself an element of. She sat beside the poor girl, seeming so unrestrained from her usual vices but still coiled in an element of disparity. Yuri retrieved a roll of gauze from her bag,  working at her wound and hoping for some narrow aspect of the culminating emotions within her to be expressed by her actions. And then, after she was finished- She pulled her into her own lap, stroking her softly and watching as the spark of the sun finally dipped below the horizon.

Natsuki was alive, but this sorrowful state might as well have killed Yuri for a few moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Relevant](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=55fmNwCgf1M)
> 
> There's Natsuki's stand! It's um... Pretty good. Not as like, hilarously broken as some of these other stands but it definitely has more uses than you think... Just think about it. Juuuuust think about it.
> 
> The logic for this one is pretty simple but awesome, I mean, what better metaphor for Natsuki than a pink cannon? And I mean, considering most of my music references have been classical I just had to go with the _CLASSIC_ 1812 overture.
> 
> Also, a Nasturi chapter? In MY Monuri jojo shitpost? It's more likely than you think!


	9. Y

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RnBzc2htaWggRnNh
> 
> 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something a little different.
> 
> Normal chapter is soon.

To a certain extent, the liveliness of this hearty island of comfort radiated within Y. She allowed herself a smile, tapping her nails gently on the wooden table to the beat of some vaguely familiar tune she must have heard a thousand times on the radio. The smattering of teenagers and families, all enjoying themselves to saccharine bliss, the welcoming whites and reds of the place and the mellow lighting, the ambient sound of clinking silverware. The familiarity of this Ihop only helped to lift her thoughts away from matters, before that raincloud came and sunk them back onto her.

And raincloud it was, for even the shelter within couldn’t help to blot out how intensely it was showering outside, almost a hail of gunfire or a steady dumping of some bucket over heaven. The rain created its own fog, obscuring anything past the sidewalk completely veiled in that thin, gossamer coating. Y caught sight of it all, alone in that varnished red booth, hugged against the chill of the window. Y used to love the rain, she would adore the almost baptism whilst she strolled within its gentle embrace. But of late, it's only managed to allow events to crawl back from their unplumbed graves, evermore reminding Y of how she had departed from those days.

The actual raincloud seemed to have arrived: S idly tarried down the sidewalk lane, convenient only on the most simplistic level, as although Y could see her arrival, that only managed to instill that leaden blanket above Y all the sooner. S seemed to be enjoying the view around, letting every step resound, as she inspected how each of her footfalls drew out ripples in the veneer of water, or how each droplet impacted and rolled off the leaves of the bush just below the window Y peered out of. Although she walked with a translucent pink umbrella and dulled sunshine raincoat, she used neither the canopy nor the hood: allowing every edge of the rain to blend into her hair, like rosewood carvings matted against the sides of her head. As years grew on, her hair kept its untameable nature, although its discord evolved as hers did, into a more so structured chaos.

She seemed to break out that narrow spell, locking eyes with Y through the facade as she got a fair assessment over her. Nothing much had changed since they last met: S was weary and strained, bags and creases drawn across her youthful canvas like heavy strokes from a brush, allowing her a contrast between her seeming physical age and mental age long collected from her baggage. Yet that sadness in her features etched a gloom of wisdom; gone were the days where she seemed to wrestle with that gravity within herself. She had transcended masks or falsehoods to mask her true self, and although she had by no means recovered from her affliction, she had accepted it. Learned to live with it, to spar with it, to learn some key aspect about herself from its wretched appearance. Y shuddered to think what might have became of her, but this outcome certainly couldn’t be the worst.

Upon seeing Y, her features were stretched tight into happiness. It was genuine happiness, and not any sort of forced luminance. And despite everything about her, that made Y smile, too; with S not burning every moment to some feeble facade, she had enough to spare to show more joy in the moments where it should matter.

S seemed to try to speak through the glass, but the rain and Y’s own apathy to whatever she might have to say stopped any message from getting through, Y only replying with a questioning smirk as she forced S to roll her eyes and gesture exasperatedly, before heading over to the Ihop’s entrance. Y brought her attention back to the diner, and any liveliness seemed to have faded from her consciousness as she began to dread what she already knew S would come to discuss.

S soon rounded the corner, face still balanced by that paint of weariness alongside that knowing smile that still managed to warm her heart after all these years. She slipped into the other side of the booth incredibly casually, managing to make somewhat of a mess as her slick pants and raincoat made a streak and squeak against the glossy cushions of the booth. She glanced back behind her with a bit of surprise, before breaking out into a laugh and resting on her arms to look Y in the eye.

“So.” She said, letting a bit of playful jape ring out in her word.

“So.” Y replied back, continuing to amusedly raise her eyebrows as she sipped at her dark roast.

“How have you been? I mean it's been like, what? A couple weeks since we last met face to face? I must say you haven’t gotten any less uh… Rapturous. Unlike me, I swear I develop wrinkles twice as fast as anyone else.” She still managed to communicate that actual excitedness in her voice, but allowed the very present cloud over her to seep through a fair bit. Almost reminiscent of when she was younger, although far more refined, as she became more comfortable with talking.

“Busy. Dealing with work, enjoying the sun when it manages to show itself. As I travel, the rain almost seems to follow me.” Y said, offering only brief interjections into the tedium of the small talk, small drops of anticipation forming as she waited for S to address her actual reasoning.

“Oh come on, Yuri? Where’s the exposition machine I once knew? You had to have gotten something you really want to tell me about. Where’d you visit? You had to have at least read several more novels while I was gone.” S flicked through the menu, making various faces of interest and attraction to each posed picture of pancakes.

“I don’t read as much as I used to- Work. And most places i’ve been sent to are more of the same.” Y carelessly pressed her knife into her own pancakes, twirling a strawberry around before nibbling at the end.

“You know, for someone who doesn’t like when I talk about work, you sure do mention it a lot…” S said, sighing deeply as she tossed her hand through her own hair and shook it about a bit, flinging water all around her. “Fine, I can see you’re tensing up with all this small talk. Did you… Get another one? You should treat yourself, have some fun. You’re approaching a literal sisyphean task, there’s no urgency.” S seemed concerned, and disappointed in Y. That deep resentment, and even more so empathy and care for Y that sliced into her deeper than any knife could. “We might not be dating any more, but that doesn’t mean I can't baby you, alright?” 

Y stood still and silent for a moment, only hearing the grating of her butterknife against the plate as she sliced through the pancakes. She nodded, reaching into her purse and retrieving quite a large white hair bow, and placing it in front of S. S grimaced at the sight, lightly reaching out and only poking at it, as if it were to come alive and snap at her. “...This wasn’t the one, was it?” She said sadly, finally breathing in and feeling the object in more depth, drawing each crevice with her fingers. “No.” Y finally said, reaching forward to take the bow back as S withdrew her hand. “Look… Yuri. I… I know its probably so far past the point of trying to convince you, but… Just come and live with me for a while. Take a break for this. It’ll be… Good for you. You know, like old times?” S offered a weak smile.

Y shook her head, with almost no energy behind it as she nearly crumbled against the other woman’s will. But she had a mission.

“I’m sorry, Sayori. And well… If you want to be together, you’ll need to come with me. That offer will always stand.”

A light tear glistened in one of S’s eyes, as she bit her lip and fumbled with the menu, placing it back in its tray. “I...  I don’t know, Yuri. That’s not me. That’s… Never been me. And that’s not… You, either.” She seemed to have given up on convincing Y, leaning back and staring up at the squares on the ceiling.

“It is, Sayori.”

“It is.”


	10. A Moon, A Mother, and a Match (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri talks to Natsuki about stands.
> 
> Audrey approaches with a unique offer.
> 
> Tension escalates between Yuri and Monika.
> 
> Danse Macabre.
> 
> S.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BEHOLD, THE GARGANTUAN, 3 PERSPECTIVE MEGA ARC
> 
> YES MY CHILDREN, THE TIME HAS COME. REJOICE. LITERALLY EVERY CHARACTER INTRODUCED SO FAR IS GETTING USED IN THIS MEGA ARC
> 
> This is kind of an experiment but im excited
> 
> X3 cliffhanger combob

Monika may have upset Yuri.

And she admitted that. But did she care? Not particularly. After all, why would she? Knowing Yuri, she would forgive Monika within the week, so her distaste would only be temporary. Of course Monika would never actually risk an action that could jeopardize their friendship… Yuri was useful, at least, and Monika had to admit that there was a certain more… Human reason why she wanted her around. She was endearing and even charming at times, she helped to moderate the annoying aspects to Natsuki, and she was honestly the only member who even qualified as a real expert regardless.

But it was fairly annoying to have to interact with someone who was so scrying. Before club, there would be masses of people who never saw beneath her outward facade, who skimmed over the thin shimmer of whatever she put off, and never questioned any of her word, regarding it as deific truth. But Yuri, and to a certain extent Natsuki, kept a keen suspicion to them that must have been forged by some bitter upbringing. Their gazes pierced any surface-level facade, forcing Monika to expend a certain level of effort every moment she wanted to come off as legitimate. And that wasn’t even when Yuri placed every intensity into watching her faces, as she would in this apology.

But it was also still welcome, as she hadn’t quite experienced challenge to this degree much before, and it allowed her to shave and hone her silvery tongues to delightful levels.

She would apologize, she would put her heart and soul into that apology. But there would always be artificiality to it, and Yuri would still sense that and take it with a high degree of skepticism. This was to be expected. But she still held confidence in her seemingly selfish decision. After all, what were a few dirty looks from Natsuki and Yuri in comparison to warding Sayori from any amount of deeper shadows?

* * *

 

When Natsuki awoke, the scene was strangely opposed with itself, this intense joy from seeing every minor element of her face animate once again- even the strained and gaunt fierceness that was betrayed by a corner of a smile as she saw Yuri’s face. It was all contrasted with the swallowing muck of gloom, and having to see her in this state, in this place of misery, at this time when every lingering strand of shallow sunlight has sunk asuner to below the starline.

She seemed weary: Yuri could understand. Even if the memories of Yuri’s stand-induced coma were becoming increasingly narrow, she could still remember. That feeling of being enervated from your own soul, feeling mental and spiritual energy drained as you would tire a physical muscle after a marathon. She’d imagine that with a much more dramatic and abrupt trial, the feelings would likewise be fleeting, but multiplied tenfold.

“What are you doing, you dummy….” She seemed to get out, swatting at Yuri with only a brushing stroke from lack of energy.

Yuri couldn’t help but compare this to their first “date”... She was naive back then, and never really treated it as such: but in essence, it was. She had fallen asleep much like this, and that same mystifying sleeping expression of peace enraptured Yuri and made her want to replicate it in waking.

“Assisting another dummy.” Yuri said, rustling through her hair. They laid there for a while, caring naught from the world, and merely for one another. They talked, avoiding the topic of the attack for a moment, as it’s memory still clearly hung suspended in the air. Natsuki didn’t seem to particularly care that Yuri had somehow been her only rescuer, and that some law enforcement weren’t coming to help her. She didn’t exactly have the best track record with authorities, anyways.

Eventually, the idle conversation drifted back to the topic at hand, after enough time had passed to numb it's vividness.

“So… Who was that cunt, anyways? Who breaks into someone else’s house just to shoot them with an arrow?” She tried to keep up the lighthearted atmosphere, but Yuri could feel both anger and pain radiate from every crack in the act.

“....We don’t know. They’re attacking seemingly random strangers, and… Wait, you don’t know about stands yet, do you?” Yuri started with some shame in her voice- they should have cracked the attacker’s motives, or at least a more specific hypothesis by this point. It melded into confusion, after she realized how much she had normalized what she had once thought was exclusive to only close family.

“That’s like my overture, right?” She seemed surprisingly aware of the jargon… And already even had a stand name? Yuri was dumbfounded. “W-what?”

Natsuki scrunched up her face for a moment, before two gleaming pink cannons around the size of a small dog manifested before her. “These are a stand, right? That’s what the bitch called them. She had her own, too.. It sort of looked like a chess queen.” Yuri was doubly shocked: not only had Natsuki already developed a stand, but the implications of the second detail began to cling to her. “....Chess queen?” A small undertone of fear began to swim in her inflection.

“Uh… Yeah?” She said, poking at Yuri’s nose. “Why so pale all of the sudden, you weirdo? Is that supposed to mean something?” No… She couldn’t have. There’s no way Monika…. “What color?” she asked, distracted from her company by the intense pressure of what being confirmed might mean.

“It’s skin was black, it was kind of like some sort of shitty bug shell, if that makes sense? I guess it does. She sort of was like a real life chess piece, after all. And her dress was white, and made of playing cards.” Yuri felt an ocean of pressure relieved from her back, as she exhaled her worries, and chided herself internally for even presuming that such a folly assumption could ever be false. Of course Monika couldn’t be the attacker, nothing would add up. Still… She couldn’t help but cling to that notion, somehow… She stored it away in the back of her mind.

She remained silent, and Natsuki continued giving her odd looks. “C’mon, what’s up?” Yuri offered a sort of forced smile, as today’s events weighed on her. “Nothing. Just reminded me of Monika’s stand, is all.” Natsuki rolled her eyes, giving Yuri disappointed chagrin. “Really? You thought it might have been Monika, of all people? We both know she’s a vampire, and I have garlic all around this house to keep fangbitch out. Yuri rolled her eyes in return, retorting with a quick repartee. “You’re one to talk about fangs. Besides, vampires need permission before entering a home.” “Oh, of course you of all people would know! And don’t think you can distract me from these ‘stands’, alright? You and Monika had one and you didn’t tell me shit?”

Yuri felt a small bead of guilt at that question . She was holding information from Natsuki, even if it was seemingly not germane to her situation; she deserved to know, especially after the cope had broadened and the veil of locusts not buzzed over seemingly every person. And it's not as if this was the first time she had hidden something like this from Natsuki…

“I’m sorry.” She offered, cringing at the pure simplicity of what should be a poignant apology. But Natsuki didn’t seem to mind, just sighing and looking Yuri in the eyes with that tense yet wholesome look she gave whenever matters became grave. “Hey look, miss macabre, you didn’t betray me, right? It just pisses me off when you keep stuff like this or the knives from me...  I deserve to know, and i’ll care, no matter what you say to yourself. Now fucking quite your frowning and give me a cool story about magic cannons or whatever.” Yuri had to grin at that, even if it did prod at some part of that guilt, shoving it further inward.

“Well, a stand is a manifestation of your soul-” “SO wait, you’re saying that my soul shoots people? That is both very cool, and very annoying. I mean, I do stuff other than attack people. Like, bug dorks like you. Why doesn’t my stand let me bug dorks too?” “-Well, most are quite, err…. Violent. They are made as a way to defend the user first and foremost, I believe.” “So… Let me see yours then.” Yuri paused for a moment, then nodded. It was altogether so bizarre even coming to terms with the face that other people besides family, especially Natsuki could see an aspect of her that was previously completely phantom. It was almost exposing, like being stripped bare; but also relieving, knowing Natsuki could finally experience  _ Moonlight Sonata _ the same way Yuri did.

She breathed in and summoned _ Moonlight Sonata,  _ who floated gently beside them. Natsuki seemed to be in awe for a moment, before scoffing and hiding it. “So your stand is basically a robotic, detective, adult version of you?” She asked. “...Yes?” “That’s…. Actually pretty cool.” She muttered, giving credit but still sounding somewhat surprised. “You say that like you expected it not to be.” She laughed, and poked at  _ Moonlight Sonata _ , feeling her cold flesh. “Well I mean, of course. I expected it to be like, a racoon or something.” “Natsuki, that was one poem…” Yuri replied exasperatedly. “It wasn’t even about racoons….”

“Oh shut the hell up and just admit you like racoons already.”

* * *

 

On their drive to school the next day, Yuri began feeling drumming tension beating in her chest as she approached the inevitable encounter with Monika. What would she say? How would she react to the manufactured emotions she knew she would find within her apology? How would she even find a way to make her pay? She did need Monika, after all. Not only was she the fourth member of the club, she wagered that she would badger Sayori to leave as well if she did, and Monika’s sphere of influence was very opportune in certain moments… Did she really feel the same way about Yuri? Eventually, after much casual discussion with Natsuki as she pondered, she decided on simply extending her gelid outwardness towards Monika until she was afforded a reaction. If she did care for Yuri’s companionship, she would certainly have to make some sort of reaction if she thought she would need to keep her.

And that’s exactly what she did, whilst instructing Natsuki the context and to do the same. Before school, in the commons, in classes, at lunch, and even in clubs. Or, well, she would have succeeded fully, if not for the anomaly which approached her during lunch, sauntering up to the isolated, so-called “Loner’s table” during lunch, wind almost rustling around her to cite her dramatic entrance, flapping her long strands of merlot hair in the sharp breeze.

Natsuki, having heard of yesterday’s events, immediately bent a callous look, with a writhing lip and a temperature in her eyes that could melt steel. “Scram.” She merely said, and that usually would be enough. Not many challenged her nearly perfect record when it came to fighting, which was fortunate for Natsuki, as Yuri doubted she could take a single more infraction before even Monika’s efforts wouldn’t stop her from being expelled.

As Audrey continued forward, Natsuki casually summoned  _ 1812 Overture _ on the seat next to her, grasping for an empty soda can as the stand fired. The shot was by intention off-course, far enough away that  _ Can’t Stop _ was summoned and plucked the can right out of the air. “That was a warning shot. If you step any closer, i’ll make your face look like meatloaf.” Yuri gave Natsuki an unamused look at that threat, who whispered back “Don’t talk shit about my one-liners, okay? They’re better than anything you could come up with.”

Audrey stepped back, raising her hands up in the air in defense. “Look, I didn’t come to fight, alright? I learned my lesson about being outnumbered. I’m here to… Repent, I guess?” Yuri could see that gleam in her eyes- that all too familiar glean. It wasn’t too surprising that she seemed to have a small point of fear burrowed into her, as the last time Yuri had seen her was when she was alone with Sancus and Brigid. Natsuki only scoffed and began eating her sandwich. “Suuuuure.” Yuri sighed, resting her hand on Natsuki’s shoulder. “Let her talk. She might have information from the stand users she mentioned.” Natsuki rolled her eyes. “Fine. I guarantee it's just going to be more bullshit, though.” 

“Alright look, i’m uh… Sorry, alright? Your…  _ Ahem. _ Sister made me change my mind.” There it was again. Yuri loved Brigid, but she had to admit….. She was a bit… Frightening. In a way Yuri could never hope to compare- If she was an owl, Brigid was a hawk. “I’ll tell you everything I know, and even help out if you run into any more stand users-” She seemed very uncomfortable, but its not as if she had many other options.

“Thank you.” Yuri said, smiling- although there was still a backing of malice in the backs of her eyes. “Now, tell me the stand user’s names, and their stand abilities. Considering they already knew the jargon and how they worked to explain it to you, it's very possible the attacker may have had the same treatment for them.” Audrey stood in place, awkwardly wringing her hands. “Yeah… About that. I kind of… Cant?”

Natsuki gave her a “Are you fucking shitting me” Look from her lounging position with both knees up on the chair, and summoned  _ 1812 Overture  _ again.

“Hey! Hey! Easy! I mean, I can… It’s just… I don’t think it's their real names, anyways? And you probably wouldn’t be able to get any real information, either. I’d have to ask them the questions, uh… Directly.” She said, shrugging. “They trust me.”

Yuri sighed, twirling a pen around and beaming disdainful confidence. “That’s quite folly reasoning, Audrey. Just-” Audrey butted in. “Hey, i’m sticking my neck out here to help you! If you go through the trouble of having Monika or your sister or somebody do research on them, you’re burning time. If I can just actually ask them, you’ll have the information sooner, even if i’m wrong.” Yuri stopped, tapping her nails on the table. “...Alright. We’ll send an escort with you to confirm the information.” Audrey grimaced a bit at that, but said nothing, besides “Who?”

Yuri thought for a moment, while Natsuki alternated between giving Audrey the death stare and shooting amused looks at Yuri about how much Audrey was in a corner right now. Yuri combed a finger through a lock of hair, eyes fixed in concentration. “Natsuki.”

Natsuki nearly spat out her half-chewed sandwich, reeling around to face Yuri. “W-wait, what? Don’t throw me under the bus here with Gingerbitch! If this information is so important to you, why don’t you go? Hell, send Monika!” Yuri shook her head, a half smile forming between her lips. “My apologies, but Monika and I are scheduled for discussion with Brigid later today. That leaves you…” Natsuki moved back, glancing between the two, Audrey looked particularly disgusting as well. “What? No, just... “ Yuri raised her eyebrows, as if to say “deal with it.” And they both sighed in unison. “You’re a cuck, Yuri.” Said Natsuki.

“Agreed.” Said Audrey.

Yuri’s grin grew wider, before crunching back into a steadfast scowl. “But if you so much as lay a finger on Natsuki... “ every part of her features hardened, and she seemed to inherit something from Brigid, transforming into some splitting image as one lip was raised, showing gleaming incisors beneath. “You’ll die.”

Audrey gulped and began backpedaling.

* * *

 

The day passed quite as expected. Natsuki’s dread only exponentially grew, and bred a fiesty anger within her that exploded at anyone who even mildly annoyed her. “Fuck off.” She would say, as they scurried off like rats parting from the heel of a housemaster. She wasn’t exactly that angry at Yuri- She could see her logic, but it didn’t stop her from still acting fairly ferocious in her jabs. Yuri didn’t seem to mind, though- She had far since come to know exactly when Natsuki’s bristles were really quite soft and docile. Club seemed more divided than ever, like some grand gap had opened on each corner of the room as Sayori and Monika adopted one side, and Yuri and Natsuki another. Sayori seemed confused about the whole thing, trying to converse with Natsuki and Yuri only to be pulled back with Monika. Even poem sharing was about as curt as possible, with Yuri merely saying a few words like “It’s decent.” Instead of her usual gushing.

And she found herself wandering down those stark hallways, filled with gleaming floors occasionally blotted by some wandering piece of trash or pencil treaded into the ground. A shallow chill crept from narrow cracks everywhere, letting in the cold that seeped through Natsuki’s light coat, even in here. She grimaced, working up an armor of lava as she walked out into the void courtyard, where Audrey was supposed to meet her.

She was leaning against a post, watching from a distance as Natsuki stepped closer and closer with indigent reverb in every trot. Audrey seemed surprisingly smug for just being threatened so sharply by Yuri, grinning widely as Natsuki crossed her arms and looked her over. “What the fuck are you looking at?”

She shrugged, pulling down her sleeve to look over a fairly shoddy watch. “I don’t know, it’s kind of just funny, how you put so much effort to make everything so intimidating. You know when you walk like that, it kind of makes you look like a toddler?” Natsuki gave a “Are you fucking kidding me?” look, before grabbing her by her sleeve. “Hey, listen here fuckwad did you ever notice how you’re so skinny, you look like a fucking noodle?” Audrey gave a vengeful glare back, and was just about to reply, before stopping herself and sucking in a breath of air. “What’s the matter, scared of Yuri? You should be. I may be a brawler, but sometimes she just gets her look in her eyes…” Natsuki gave a conceited smirk.

Audrey rolled her eyes, getting off her post and setting off. “Let’s just go. We aren’t solving anything by bickering.”

Unimpeded, Natsuki continued. “Why’d you pick a fight with Yuri and Monika, anyways? Any idiot can see that’s a losing fight.” Audrey continued walking, fingers tensing lightly. “I thought they didn’t have stands.” Natsuki scoffed. “Why didn’t you run, then? Yuri told me they brought out their stands pretty early when the battle began.” Audrey paused, stretching out her hands and then clasping them again. “You really want to know the reason? ...In that moment, I think I just snapped. I lost everything, and all I wanted was to beat the shit out of Monika. I was like a different person.” Natsuki paused midway through speaking the first of the next insult, before she stopped and thought about her next comment.

“...I guess I can relate. She really is kind of a bitch. Bowbitch.” Audrey glanced over, surprised that it wasn’t another insult. “Is that a thing you do? Calling everyone something-bitch?” Natsuki shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. Just kinds of comes naturally.” Audrey laughed a bit, before jovially speaking again. “No, if you want to give everyone derogatory nicknames they have to feel unique, otherwise, they get used to them. Like, here.” Audrey reached over and flicked one of Natsuki’s bangs, before pulling her hand back. “Pink Monkey.” 

Natsuki recoiled, before responding with gibes in turn. “Hey i’m… Fucking….” Audrey shook her head, laughing more. “No, no. You have to hit me with an equally good one. Make it insulting, but just cute enough that you can use it like a little pet nickname.” Natsuki stopped, before firing back. “Dried-up pepper.” Audrey snickered, seemingly in the first mood that wasn’t defensive nor hostile. “See? So much better.” 

The pair finally reached the end of the school, coming within sight of the bike parking, where only two small bicycles were bound against the reinforced poles. Both were somewhat beat-up, although one was blue with fades between different shades, whilst the other was red with flame designs. Audrey piqued an eyebrow at Natsuki’s bike choice, surprised. “Can’t say I thought red would be your choice, really.” Natsuki seemed irritated, looking to the side. “Yeah, you thought it would be a twirly pink one, right?” Audrey chortled, then derided: “Honestly? No. I thought it would be black with skulls all over it. That’s the kind of edgy shit you would like.” Before Natsuki could reply, Audrey headed over to her own bike and began getting on her helmet and unlocking it. “H-hey! I’m not Yuri! I’m not fucking edgy!”

Audrey just gave an unconvinced expression.

“Suuuure.”

* * *

 

Needless to say, Monika and Yuri didn’t drive to her manor in the same car. Such an event would likely shatter the universe from the amount of pure angst and forced silence between the two, slowly enveloping the compartment with some black unholiness.

Monika hummed softly to herself the nondescript song on the radio; it all blended together in her mind. Love songs, Requiems, Heavy metal… It didn’t really matter, as long as it was something. Even if she had wholly convinced herself Yuri would turn around, she couldn’t help but feel...  Distanced. Isolated. Somehow deprived. She calmed herself, but it always persisted in the back of her mind.

At least she could be sure that Brigid wouldn’t harbor any grudges from it. Monika didn’t take her as the kind of person who particularly cared about such things, which was a boon for the moment but made Monika even more so unsure about the possibility of ever manipulating her in the slightest. She seemed a stoic mountain; no, more like an elegant redwood. Graceful, everlasting, and not only surviving, but growing from conflict.

She caught sight of the place soon enough, and pulled down the driveway, taking great care to park as far from Yuri’s car as she could in the expansive garage. Yuri waited on the steps to the house door, tracking her every movement with a stillness that reminded Monika of Brigid. But thankfully, only slightly- Monika could still sense the minute sensation of her eyes darting tiny increments, signs of anxiety. This gave her relief, and she cracked a corner of her mouth in a grin before deciding to work with it and pretend her relief was at the sight of seeing her friend.

“Yuri! We didn’t really get a chance to talk today, no hard feelings, right? Look, i’m sorry about last night, I me-” Yuri pressed a finger to her lips. “Save the apologies for after I beat you.” Monika stopped dead in her tracks, glancing around in confusion as Yuri walked off into the building. What was she talking about? It did prick a small jab of nervousness within Monika, however- spreading that yellow fever around her mind. Hopefully, this wouldn’t be a chess tournament all over again, whatever it was….

She followed closely behind, routing the course now familiar to her. The common room was noticeably cleaned, with the chess board tucked away into a bookshelf and Brigid resting peacefully on the couch, sipping tea. Similarly, a cup awaited Yuri and Monika on opposite ends of the table- Apparently Yuri had made her preference to be as distanced as possible known to Brigid.

Monika sat, being polite as possible and perfectly executing every one of her learned manners. She expected Brigid to be at least somewhat pleased with this, as seemingly a woman of elegance and poise- But she betrayed not even a hint of any emotions, and almost a phantom sense that she was judging Monika with those eyes, judging her attempt to seem like some sort of urbane lady above the coils of demonic intent beneath. But the sense was only fleeting, and Monika soon corrected her beliefs back to the thought that those mauve voids betrayed no inflection, no inner reflections.

Yuri sat as well, and the room grew stagnant as not a single party spoke. Yuri, still fervently disappointed, Brigid, calculated as ever, and Monika- absorbing every detail to strategize on her next movement. It seemed like the deadlock wound never end, and Monika was considering relinquishing her strategic advantage before Brigid spoke with a low, tone that ebbed with mystery and some eerie otherworldliness. 

“Monika, are you aware of the full extent your stand’s ability?” Monika was startled for a moment, both from Brigid speaking first as well as asking a question Monika assumed she already knew. But she obliged, answering with as much respect as she could muster.

“Yes, Miss Egeria. It allows me to reach into one reality, exchanging anything I wish.” Monika smiled inwardly: her sentence was terse and crisp.

Brigid stared off into the streaked soot in the fireplace, uttering her next sentence. “Incorrect. The first thing you should know about stands is that although they are static, they are not simple. A stand will never abruptly develop some unrelated ability to its original, unless certain, difficult measures are met. But it should be stated that much like the user’s knowledge about themselves, there is always more to uncover about your stand. You cannot train to make your stand better, but you can train to discover intricacies about it you previously didn’t consider. Using a stand isn’t comparable to a martial art: you do not have a base, and infinite possible development. Instead, it's much like being dealt a hand in some card games: you cannot gain more cards, but you can learn to use the cards you have to the best of your abilities. But unlike card games, the hands you are dealt in this instance are vague. Stands may seem to be on a certain power level comparably, but that is fools play. Even a seemingly useless stand can dominate a stand that seems godly on surface level, so long as the user plays to its benefits.” 

Monika nodded, but the mammoth exposition was a lot to take in. She had to wonder, however, where exactly she was taking this conversation- Hadn’t it begun on a note of her own abilities? “So, Miss E-” Brigid cut her off sharply. “Brigid.” She insisted, a tone in her voice of annoyance with Monika’s continued attempts at formality. Monika coughed awkwardly, before continuing. “Right, Brigid. This has something to do with my ability?” Brigid didn’t nod, but some aspect of the silence conveyed that feeling before she even said it… Brigid seemed especially good at that, nonverbal communication, even without much body language. “Correct.”

“What you’re seeing right now is an especially limited view of your new sense- Although you could consider it somewhat of an addendum to vision. Monika, have you heard of the gate control theory of pain? Or perhaps, theories on color constancy?” Yuri perked up, and rigid movements in her face told Monika she desperately wanted to join in on the conversation, but stayed silent. From Monika’s perusings into psychology, she had brief musings into the subjects, but her researches were far more concerned with more behavioral aspects, rather than vision or pain. But nonetheless, she nodded; they were relatively simple theories at a base level. The gate theory was merely that non-painful sensory inputs could close pain inputs, preventing pain from travelling to the brain. This meant that some unconscious actions, such as rubbing or scratching at a wound, could actually be a reflex ingrained into the human mind to dull pain. Color constancy merely meant that the brain filtered actual color through a filter, making even colors that should realistically differ widely appear the same for the sake of consistency. Without either of these theories, both physical and color inputs would be a muddled mess, or so it is claimed.

“Yes, I have.” Monika said, wanting to continue but knowing Brigid would likely interrupt her off-topic digression without a moment's notice. “The same thing very much applies here. In reality, your mind has access to every reality that has ever existed. However, accessing them all is impossible, so your mind portions out its sensory input to a singular reality, while splitting out the rest of your attention to other senses. You may notice that with enough attention into your “Reality sense”, shall we say, you can better see the other world: but this trait is nearly useless, besides seeing in fine detail. Instead, with enough focus and practice you should be able to expand your view, perhaps seeing multiple at a time or being able to tune each to something in particular you want. However, the mind seems to prefer realities most similar to our own, so it's best not to become vivacious in your excitement.” Monika finally accepted the whole truth, already becoming giddy at the thought of extending her grip on the fabrics of the universe itself, before a singular query was prompted in her mind. “...How do you know from such experience. What’s… Your stand ability?”

Brigid stayed silent for a moment, and Monika imagined any other person would tense at the question: but she remained perfectly still. “Usually, sharing a stand ability is a major disservice to strategy. However, I will offer mine, for the sake of comparison.” She stood, and  _ Danse Macabre  _ manifested behind her again, in all its unplumbed glory.

“You see, Monika...  Whilst your stand allows you to peer into alternate timelines entirely separate from our own,  _ Danse Macabre _ allows me to observe the points at which our timeline diverges into others. In the present moment, I see an elegant dance of other selves, sharing their presents with my own in some graven art. I can observe how the world and my opponent reacts to certain actions, or see dangers I could not before. However, as with all stand- It has its weaknesses, which I shall not expose, besides the fact that it makes games of strategy quite trivializing, especially chess with Yuri, so I must focus on disregarding that sense entirely.

“Monika, I have seen several versions of yourself attack versions of myself throughout my brief interactions with you.  _ Danse Macabre  _ has afforded me greater insight into you than any interview ever could.”

“That is my stands power.”

As Monika watched this, she watched a single drop of that quivering mud on  _ Danse Macabre _ drop from its body and onto the floor, silently writhing and digging into it.

* * *

 

**Stand Name:** Danse Macabre

**Stand User:** Brigid Egeria

**Stand Type:** Close-ranged, artificial humanoid stand

**Stand Stats:**

_ Destructive Power: A _

_ Speed: A _

_ Range: C _

_ Precision: A _

_ Durability: D _

_ Developmental Potential: D _

**Stand Ability:** _ Danse Macabre _ has the ability to see offshoots of Brigid or other person’s actions, potentially allowing herself to see outcomes of actions and opponent abilities before they happen. However, Brigid admits this ability has weaknesses.

The “Mud” on  _ Danse Macabre _ is highly corrosive, and functions as her main method of attack.

* * *

 

Sayori wanted to do something.

Monika said she’d be here soon. A couple of hours after club. She’d be here soon, right? Why did it feel like every second was frozen in place? Why did she feel like daggers stood poised in the air around her?

And it wasn’t the omen, any more. Now it was just… Her, she guessed. She loafed on the couch, feeling the blood rush to her head as she stared at the room from that tilted, backwards perspective of being upside-down. She hated times like this, hating being alone. Because being alone meant thinking. And thinking meant being her. Thinking meant knowing. Always knowing.

What if Monika didn’t come back? What if she didn’t love her? It's not like she was really in this relationship for love, anyways. She was in this relationship because Sayori made her feel human. And, wouldn’t she be better off just not associating with her and finding someone else, anyways? I mean, Sayori always was so needy and effected her personality….

Sayori sighed, weakly slapping herself. No. No. Monika wouldn’t like this. (Probably because she thinks Sayori was a pathetic welp….) STOP.

She pathetically flopped off the couch. She had to put her mind to something- anything, until she got here, but she just couldn’t find the energy. Anime? ...She would just end up spacing out, and getting right back on this topic. Well, it might be worth the try…Maybe some games. She really didn’t want to go out… What was really the point, anyways? It's not like she would enjoy it that much, and people probably wouldn’t enjoy having yet another person to contend with. Natsuki and Yuri, too, were apparently busy… And… That was somehow the vast majority of her friends. Great.

Sayori wriggled upon the carpet like some sort of deflated snake, feeling the air flow out of her lungs. Maybe she would just sit here for a while- Yeah, that sounded good. Probably pull out her phone, check reddit for the thousandth time… Nothing at all, really. As if complimenting her thoughts, her phone buzzed. What would it be? Probably some remind from her classes or a social media ping from someone who probably didn’t even know or care she existed.

(1 new message from Monika Apate)

She managed a smile, and read that message almost as fast as she could.

* * *

 

Monika: Hey, sweetie! Make sure you do something while i’m gone :P I better see some proof you got off your lazy butt!

Sayori: :0! ok….

* * *

 

Groaning, Sayori wondered just how bittersweet this could be. On the one hand, it was Monika and holy shit she cared about her and wanted her to have fun and not just sit around all day but on the other hand…. Moving. And working. And having to see people, more people ignoring her. Sigh.

She picked herself off the floor, staggering towards the door like some kind of zombie. Should she shower….? Probably not. She’d probably just make a quick break to the boardwalk, buy some unnecessary soaps or something so Monika could rest easy and stop worrying about her. She fumbled with her jacket, grabbing her keys and heading out to her car. Lazily flopping in, she felt the heat wash over her with dense artificiality, and dulled her thoughts in the radio, not particularly caring what she heard. As long as it was something. 

It wasn’t a long drive to the boardwalk: and there wasn’t a particular crowd there, thankfully. Oregon weather was remarkably stagnant, especially in these months. The snow from yesterday had cleaned up nicely, and some heat and sun managed to slip through the dismal blanket of foggy skies. She didn’t think it snowed in this part of town, anyways; there was only a light dusting elsewhere, which was quickly snuffed by the rain which followed.

She heard the frothing sound of waves down below on the craggy coast, and idly gazed out at it from the mélange of storefronts she stood by, feeling some connection with the cold, everlasting torrents. The few people out today slipped past her, as she stood amongst the wind and the noise, feeling nothing.

The abyss of thought disappeared as quickly as it came, and she sighed and turned back to her destination: some soap store of some quality. She strolled slowly, not because she particularly cared to take her time (Actually, it was quite the opposite…) But that her legs almost rejected the energy she placed into them.

A moment before entering, she paused. She had a gap along her, she was missing something. It was that incessant, gnawing dread you felt when you know you had forgotten, but not what exactly. Just… Vaguely present. Until she looked down at her arm and realized she didn’t have a purse.

She stood still for a moment, almost agape in the sensation of equal parts apathy and pity. Of course she forgot the most vital aspect to shopping… And, well.. There was no way she could will herself to complete a round trip. Sighing, she admitted she at least had had that moment with the ocean, and set off back to her car.

...Until she didn’t.

A bundle of rosewood hair peeked itself out from inside a small crowd of people. The subject of Sayori’s interest was fairly tall, certainly an adult. That height, that hair, it was almost like….

Sayori hurried toward her, with some intensity she wouldn’t think possible after she felt that listlessness just now extend throughout her legs and entire body. The increase in pace wasn’t necessarily important, for the figure seemed to be paused in place, observing her surroundings, or so Sayori presumed. She hadn’t turned her face, so she couldn’t be sure, and that face still remained somewhat of a mystery, although her mind filled in certain gaps from photos, Christmas, and Birthdays. She didn’t quite understand this cocktail of primordial emotions within her, attempting to distinguish them was like attempting to distinguish the ingredients in a soda from one another.

What puzzled Sayori was her preference to wear a bright, blaring yellow raincoat, almost gaudy, in this weather. Although a light rain was present last night, the forecast for the next few days was completely devoid of any precipitation…. So why such an odd decision? Finally reaching her, Sayori tugged at the back of the rubbery garment on the seeming stranger, prompting her to swivel around.

“....Mom?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... What did you think? Who is the stranger in the raincoat? What the fuck did that last chapter mean? Why is Brigid's stand so OP? Will I ever have a consistent season/weather setting for these stories? Does YuriXMonika still have the old NatsukiXYuri in there somewhere? Did I run off everyone who reads this fic with the last chapter? Did you get bamboozled into thinking this was a Sayuri ship now? What the fuck was that base64 in the last chapter? Will Ireg ever reveal Sayori's stand? Why did the entire last chapter use 1 letter for character names? Why where S and Y adults? If Sayori as a food is a cinnamon roll, where are the strawberries? Is Yuri's favorite animal a raccoon? Who is the largest DokiDork (tm) If you had one of these stands in real life, which one would you choose? Will Ireg ever stop asking questions? Is this a legitimate fanfic or just a very elaborate Jojo shitpost? Will anyone get a special prize for answering all these questions? Is Naarel reading this? Is anyone reading this? ZA WARUDO, TOKI WO TOMARE!
> 
> WRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone who reads passerby and is like "Will this influence how fast passerby gets updated?" Probably. Not too much, though- And I think i'll probably focus more on passerby. I really just needed this as a way to get out my more mystical side, and also actually use all those hints i've been dropping in passerby.


End file.
